The Falling
by Rae666
Summary: With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean’s mind, he’s trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. Sequel to Lucifer - longer summary inside.
1. Garden of Eden

.-.-.-.The Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Hey! So after finishing Lucifer, I decided there were places that I really wanted to go with that story but never got the chance to and so I now introduce The Falling, sequel to Lucifer. It follows on two months from where Lucifer left off - set before All Hell Breaks Loose of Season 2.

And a nice long chapter to kick us off, I really hope you enjoy.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Garden of Eden

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It wasn't raining. That was a plus. But it had been, so the ground was already soggy enough to be called a mud bath. The wind whistled through the nearby trees, rustling the leaves and branches as it did so before circling the Winchester brothers and forcing them to shiver against the cold it held. But they'd sharp warm up when they started digging up the grave of a Mr Nathaniel Jacobs.

Right nasty son of a bitch in life and death. Rearranged the furniture in the middle of the night, tossed plates and any other projectile type weapons he could at people and murdered three women in cold blood... And that was just whilst he was alive.

Since dying, his spirit roamed through his house, angrily tormenting the new occupants until they moved out and then when more people moved in, he did the same to them, time and time again until at the very least fifteen families had passed through his home during the past twenty years. But he hadn't killed anyone until the month before.

One of the china plates he'd thrown across the room had impaled one of the occupants after smashing and even though it didn't kill them there and then, they were pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital - taking his overall body count up to four.

And his attacks just kept getting worse, more violent by the day until no one dared even enter the house.

So Sam and Dean were out at Primrose Cemetery looking to burn themselves a poltergeist.

Taking a step forward, Dean slipped along the mud, barely managing to keep his body upright as he held his arms out to steady himself for a moment. He cursed out loud, hating the rain more than ever for soaking the ground the way it had. "That's it! I give up! We're coming back and doing this another night."

"The great Dean Winchester, afraid of a little mud." Sam laughed from behind his brother, the movement causing him to lose his footing and he fell forward, grabbing hold of Dean to stop himself from landing flat on his face. He smiled sheepishly as Dean glared at him.

"Says the klutz who's using me as a leaning post."

"Well, it_ is_ a little slippy." Sam admitted, steady enough again that he could let go of his brother.

"_A little_?" Dean scoffed, shrugging himself completely free so he could force his feet out of the mud, that was slowly sucking him down, and forwards in search of Jacobs' grave, "That's _'a little'_ bit of an understatement, don't cha think?"

"It rains all the time here at this time of year Dean. It rained yesterday, it rained today and it'll rain tomorrow. No matter when we do this, it'll still be just as wet and just as muddy."

"So what, you're a weather man now? Or is this those freaky powers of yours talking?" Dean sniped, readjusting the strap of his pack with one hand as he used a flashlight in the other to search the names on the graves.

Sam rolled his eyes and caught up with his brother, matching him stride for stride as he used his flashlight to search the graves on the opposite side, "No Dean, the little pink fairy who sits on your shoulder told me."

"Yeah, well right now it's telling _me_ to kick your ass for letting you talk me into this." He growled in reply as his flashlight hovered over a grave, the name bold and clear though a little worn by years outside in the weather. _Yahtzee._ He dropped his bag and clipped his brother round the back of his head before resting the flashlight on the ground so he could pull out what he needed, "Time to dig fairy boy."

"It's your turn Dean." Sam grumbled, rubbing the back of his head even though it didn't hurt as he tried to pass the shovel to Dean but his brother refused to accept it, instead checking the shotgun was loaded.

"Nah ah Sammy boy, I'm on watch. This dead dude is so severely pissed off I wouldn't put it past him to try and stop us from salting and burning his bones."

"You're kidding me, right? His house is over five miles from here. He ain't coming."

Dean clicked the gun shut and raised an eyebrow, "That ever stop 'em in the past?"

"Fine." Sam groaned and moved to start digging, tossing a quick glare at his brother before taking a deep breath.

Grabbing the flashlight, Dean straightened up and searched their surroundings for anything out of the ordinary. The shadows danced and squirmed away from the light, creeping backwards and hiding from Dean's ever moving eyes. He heard Sam muttering complaints and heard the shovel squelching and digging into the ground, the soft mud making the task even harder for the youngest Winchester.

Everything was calm and for the time being, normal. But he didn't relax. He refused to let his guard down until those bones were salted and burned and he was back at the motel, fast asleep in his bed. Even then he couldn't truly relax, constantly looking over his shoulders, checking every nook and cranny of every room and laying down as much protection as he could without Sam getting suspicious.

He didn't even know what he was trying to keep out half the time. Demons… hunters… nightmares…

Two months … it seemed like an eternity ago and yet at the same time felt like it was only yesterday. It had been two months since he was forced to remember his past life, two months since that personality took over, two months since he'd almost lost Sam and two months since he'd tried to end the world.

But the way everything was… the way Sam acted, the fact that the youngest didn't even remember… it helped make him feel like none of it happened, like it had all been just one bad dream. Yet the empty and aching feeling still remained; the guilt that tortured him daily and nightly as he thought about his acts.

_Dean Winchester._ That's who he was. Dean Winchester. Not Lucifer, not Satan, not some demon, not some fallen angel… he was Dean. _Dean Winchester._

"Dean!" Sam called out, a growl etched underneath to show his frustration.

Dean blinked, snapping out of his daze and looked down blankly at his brother as Sam cocked his head to the side waiting for some form of reply. "Wha?"

"You're meant to be on guard, remember? Not daydreaming." The youngest heaved an irritated sigh and turned away, once again resuming his digging.

"I know that." Dean pouted, denying the fact he'd drifted off into his own little world.

He shifted his body, rolling his shoulders and readjusting his grip on the shotgun before leaning against a gravestone, eyes once again skimming the shadows before falling on his brother as he watched the youngest work. His insides squirmed and a small voice in the back of his head once more suggested telling Sam what had happened, but a louder more sensible voice told him that when the time was right, maybe he would tell Sam but only if it was absolutely necessary.

_My burden. My secret._ He thought to himself. _It's not fair to put that on Sammy… not fair to put him through that; once was enough… I can't do it again._

The wind picked up a little more, circling them once again and causing a few dead leaves to rise from the ground and float on the current. His body stiffened and he raised his shotgun, pushing himself off the grave so he could make another sweep of the darkness. He heard Sam pause in his digging and could feel the younger man's gaze on him.

He nodded without looking to let Sam know he was aware of the sudden change in the atmosphere, letting him know it was okay to go back to work. The digging resumed, the shovel hitting the mud at almost the same time that a squelching of mud and leaves echoed through the night from behind Dean.

Spinning on the spot, he aimed the shotgun at the thin air where the sound had come from, waiting in anticipation. Waiting… waiting… Ready to fire. Ready to - _oh crap!_

The hairs on the back of his neck warned him a fraction of a second too late, Jacobs was already there, mere inches from him, staring into him. And just as he began to turn to face him, the ghost swept its hand out, lashing out at Dean and sending the eldest Winchester crashing towards the gravestone he had been resting against moments before.

The side of his head cracked hard against the stone, white spots dancing in his vision as he tried to recover before the ghost attacked again. He rolled over, grimacing internally as the mud soaked his jeans and jacket, attempting and failing to raise the shotgun as he realised that the knock had also injured his arm.

_No problem_. He growled; switching the gun to the other hand and firing immediately, smiling triumphantly as Jacobs dissipated. He dragged himself up, using the grave as support and readied himself for another attack. The flashlight flickered and died on the ground, leaving the brothers with only the dim moonlight to see by.

"Hate to say it Sam…" He started, wincing as he tried to move his right shoulder. _Dislocated maybe?_ "But I told you so."

"You okay?" Sam asked, torn between helping his brother and torching the bones of the mad ghost.

"I'll be fine if you get those bones before he gets me." Dean replied, taking a deep breath to steady himself. _Damn it._

The white spots continued to dance in front of his eyes and he would have attempted to swipe them away if Sam hadn't been watching him so closely. He sighed, and looked his brother in the eye, "I'm fine Sam. Honest…"

Sam nodded and Dean watched as he reluctantly returned to the task at hand. _Nearly there Sammy, you're nearly there._

When Jacobs came for him again, he was quicker to react but his already injured arm and head made his movements slow and clumsy. He slid on the mud, landing with a slurp as the ground took a hold of him. He grimaced against the filth, cursing the weather yet again and pushing himself up from his hands and knees, applying more pressure to his left in a vain attempt to keep check of the pain. But Jacobs was waiting and the ghost forced him backwards, causing him to land hard against the ground.

He lay like that for a moment as he tried to make a plan, the shotgun sitting neatly just out of reach. But before he had the chance to even make an attempt to grab it, he felt his body being dragged away from it and away from Sam. Ghostly fingers dug into his neck, choking him as the force lifted him up now and sent him flying towards the nearest tree.

His body slammed into it, winding him and leaving his mind reeling as the fingers dug deeper, stopping the airflow. He made to grab at his neck uselessly before thrashing against Jacobs' power, giving up on that too. Sam was calling for him, he was sure he was, even though the sound of his blood pumping in his ears drowned his brother out.

Jacobs materialised in front of him, grinning madly, staring at his latest victim, already gloating before the battle was even over. Dean glared back, his vision darkening at the corners but he could still see enough. He saw as the wild glint in Jacobs' eyes flickered to hesitation and even fear as Dean felt a burning sensation rising up in him that surely meant he was done for…

The world faded, or more accurately, it blinked. One minute Jacobs was backing away from him with confusion written on his features and the next, he was gone, a fire roaring in the background as his bones blackened and burned. With the force gone, Dean was left gasping greedily for air at the base of the tree he'd been slammed into. His senses returning to him, the pain exploding and taking over his body until he managed to grit his teeth and push it away momentarily.

"Dean!" Sam called out, landing down beside him, hands a mixture of gentle and rough as the youngest tried his best to control the fear that had spread throughout him, "Dean… are you okay?" His voice hitched as he stared down into the hazel green eyes.

"I think this is it Sammy… I think its game over." He teased, forcing his face and voice to remain deadly serious.

"Oh God… Dean."

He raised an eyebrow at his brother and used his left hand to grab Sam's as he pulled himself up. "I'm fine Sammy." He answered almost honestly as he was pretty sure he was far from fine but he was also pretty sure he wasn't exactly knocking at death's door… a few more seconds and maybe things would have been a little different however, "Nothing worse than the usual… though I'm pretty sure I only had one of you before we came here…" He continued, letting his back rest against the tree so he could use his uninjured arm to point at Sam and the double image that the head injury was causing.

"You're a freaking jerk." Sam moaned, pulling Dean away from the tree and wrapping his arm around his waist as he helped his brother walk.

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

"Well actually, I wouldn't mind you being in one piece after a hunt for once."

"Hollywood horror movie rule Sammy boy… the Hot guy _always_ ends up in mortal danger and it's the Geek's job to save him." Dean declared; smiling as the Impala came into view.

"I thought it was the Geek's job to get captured…?" Sam asked offhandedly and Dean recognised that his brother was trying to keep him talking, trying to keep him awake.

"Nah, you're just one of a kind Sammy… the freakies are attracted to ya."

Sam shifted him and he cringed, his shoulder aching from the movement. Eyes closed tightly against the pain, he left it up to Sam to lower him safely into the passenger seat of the car, remembering too late about his mud covered clothing as he thought about how hard it was gonna be to clean the interior the next day. _Damn it, another thing on the 'to do' list. If it doesn't come out, I'm blaming you Sammy._

"Dean…" His brother muttered softly, worry creasing his brow.

"I'm fine." He repeated on cue, stifling a yawn as he thought about how tempting it was just to fall asleep.

"I gotta get the stuff Dean…" Sam went on; obviously debating whether leaving Dean alone in that condition would be a wise move, "Promise me you'll stay awake. I'm pretty sure you've got a concussion…"

"Dude, seriously… five minutes won't kill me." He joked; cracking an eye open but the sight of his brother caused him to falter, "Okay… I promise. Just hurry up…"

Truth was; he was already feeling a little better. Tired… but better. _Is that a bad sign?_ He wondered idly, closing his eye again as Sam disappeared to get their gear. He lifted his good hand to his neck, feeling the skin tenderly and wincing at the touch. _Damn that Jacobs was a nasty son of a bitch… I swear if this bruises I'm gonna bring him back to burn his ass all over again._ He turned his head to the side, getting a little more comfortable as he thought about the ghost, letting himself think about the look of fear that had seemed to pass across Jacobs' face.

_Did he know? Did he see something… nah, impossible. How could he have? He probably just felt his bones burning…_

He shifted in the seat, shuffling into a better position whilst he waited for his brother's return. With heavy eyes and a long deep breath, he couldn't help but drift; the pain easing as sleep tried to claim him. His head lolled forwards before springing back, eyes opening as he jerked himself awake, regretting it when the pain lashed out from his shoulder, down his arm and through his upper body.

_Oh yeah… gotta be dislocated._ He sighed, "Gonna need Sam's help on that…"

"Gonna need Sam's help on what?" Sam asked suspiciously, coming up to the Impala and dumping the gear into the trunk before moving around to Dean's side.

Biting his lip, Dean nodded towards his shoulder. Almost immediately, he felt Sam's hands on him, gently feeling the shoulder before easing Dean forward in the seat.

"Dislocated?" Sam questioned, receiving a subtle nod in reply, "Sooner we fix it, the better…"

"I know…"

"It's gonna hurt…"

"I know that Sam." Dean growled, irritable and exhausted, "Just fix the damn thing so we can get going."

Counting down so Dean had time to prepare himself, Sam did as he was told, having had to do the same procedure on both Dean and John in the past. Dean had his own memories of doing it to his brother once or twice before as well and he always hated it, no matter which side he was on. He cried out, clenching his teeth and gripping his shoulder as he tensed up and squirmed on the seat once Sam was finished.

He was thankful when the darkness came and claimed again, the Impala's engine lulling him to sleep, and he was even more thankful that Sam actually allowed him to slip into it for awhile, waking him long enough so that they could get inside the motel room and then every half hour or so after that, forcing him to answer questions.

"_What's your name?"_

"_Pamela Anderson."_

"_Dean! Be serious…"_

"_Dean Winchester, I was born in January 24__th__ 1979. My pain in the ass little brother is Samuel Winchester and if he doesn't let me go back to sleep he will be the late Sam Winchester."_

He drifted happily; finally waking several hours later to a dishevelled looking Sam perched at the bottom of his bed. "Dude, have I never told you how creepy it is when you watch me sleep?" He asked as he dragged himself into a seated position, throwing his covers off and swinging his legs over the side.

"I wasn't…" Sam defended himself as he jumped up from the bed, frowning at his brother.

"Yeah, 'course not." Dean rolled his eyes in manner that suggested he wasn't entirely convinced, knowing it would irritate his brother. He flexed his hands and rolled his shoulders, the small voice back once more and telling him that there should have been more pain… _It should hurt more than this_. He agreed with the voice, his brow creasing, "How long was I out?"

Sam watched his brother carefully, quickly glancing at the clock to work out the answer to Dean's question, "Err… six, maybe seven hours…"

"Six?? Maybe Seven? And you've been awake all that time?" Dean groaned, pushing himself up slowly and standing still for a moment giving the dizzy sensation in his head time to disappear, "Man, you should have woke me sooner."

"You needed to rest Dean. I'm fine… you… well, Jacobs _was_ kinda using you as a Frisbee."

"Yeah well, next time I'll dig." He ground out, but knowing that he'd always it rather be him in this state than Sam. He caught sight of himself in the mirror at the end of the room and grimaced, his hair and skin was caked in the mud from the graveyard. _Great… just great._ "There any hot water?"

"Might be some left…" Sam sighed, running a hand through his own mud free hair having had his own hot shower whilst Dean was sleeping.

"Better be." Dean muttered threateningly as he grabbed a few clean clothes from his duffel and made his way towards the bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind him before Sam could even reply, letting the items drop to the floor as he strode over to the mirror.

Hands planted firmly on the sink basin, he stared at his reflection, taking in the hazel green orbs that stared back at him, tinged with fear and worry.

Two months… it wasn't long enough. It had been two months since he'd made a deal with an angel, two months since time was reset to the period before his world was turned upside down, two months since he tried to forget that he was Lucifer himself and two months since the nightmares started.

_Dean Winchester... That's my name. Dean Winchester. Not Lucifer… _He repeated like a mantra. "I'm Dean freaking Winchester…"

But the small voice at the back of his mind piped up, questioning his words, making him question himself. _Are you really sure about that?_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	2. Burning Bridges and Burning Bushes

.-.-.-.The Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Honestly… I wasn't gonna write another chapter so soon but I couldn't leave it. Another long chapter, woo! Yep, I plan on hopefully have semi-long chapters which means due to RL situations I might not get to update as regularly as I want to so I apologise in advance.

Thank you for your response to the first chapter and thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoy!

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Burning Bridges and Burning Bushes

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam stood staring at the bathroom door. He was worried about his brother, how could he not be? He'd sat over him most of the night, watching him and waking him up every so often to check on him. He regretted having to especially since it was probably the best night's sleep Dean had had for awhile now… all thanks to a concussion, how twisted was that?

But for the past two months, Sam began noticing that when Dean actually did sleep, it was restless. Sam had even woken up to find his brother pacing the room a few times. He pretended he was still asleep, didn't bother mentioning anything… just hoped Dean would come round and tell him what was wrong in his own time.

He tried to hide it, most the time he was regular old Dean but sometimes he'd get a far away look in his eyes, like he was lost in a memory of some kind. And every time Sam went to question him, he acted like everything was normal, like he didn't keep disappearing. It was only a matter of time before he became an expert at hiding that along with all the other things he tried to hide from his little brother.

Now he was underplaying injuries? Sam sighed and dropped down onto the bed. There was no way that shoulder wasn't killing him… It had been dislocated and with Sam being cautious about mixing medicine and concussions, he hadn't given Dean any painkillers. So with nothing to help ease it, Sam was sure it would be hurting him.

He rolled his own shoulders, thinking how they ached from digging at the sloppy mud and how he'd cursed every time a bit rolled back down into the grave. Oh yeah, rain and grave digging did _not_ go well together. But at least they'd got their ghost. At least one more angry spirit was salted and burned, and at least they lived to tell the tale.

"Dean?" Sam called out, glancing at the clock momentarily. It was time to check again. He stood and wandered over to the bathroom door so he could hear his brother.

"Dean Winchester, January 24th 1979." The elder brother answered in a monotone voice above the drizzle of the shower, knowing exactly what his brother wanted of him.

Sam nodded, accepting the answer. The Winchesters weren't lucky… but one day the luck they did have would run out. It had already come too close too many times. _But we got the ghost_, he reminded himself, _we lived… this time._

Shoving his hands into his pockets, his fingers wrapped around his cell phone and he withdrew it, staring at the blank screen. _Dead battery, great._ He rolled his eyes as he grabbed his duffle from the bed, searching for his charger.

Dean's phone had been smashed up, probably when he'd hit the gravestone… or the tree… it had been one more thing waiting to be broken beyond repair... And now his was dead. Normally it wouldn't matter but the blank screen left him feeling slightly disconnected from the world outside, claustrophobic even.

He could still hear the shower streaming through the bathroom door as he put his phone on charge and turned it on, though nearly silent footsteps led him to think that maybe the water was just a background noise meant to cover any other sounds. _What's going on with you Dean?_

The phone beeped once, dragging his attention away from the door and towards the small device. It beeped a second time, and then a third and a fourth... And then finally it beeped a fifth time. Five messages… all voice mails.

A puzzled frown creased his features and he hit the dial button, bringing the phone up to his ear. The first two messages were just dead lines, someone calling… getting voicemail and then deciding not to leave a message. He deleted them immediately, not caring for the wasted space.

But the third was a familiar voice. Ellen. She sounded tired and urgent.

"_Hey Sam, it's Ellen. I've been trying to get a hold of you two for the past few hours now… give me a call when you get this."_

His frown deepened as the messages carried on, the fourth starting with a long and weary sigh.

"_Ellen again… Look, you boys really need to get in touch. Ash is getting antsy. He thinks he's spotted something. Call me back A-SAP… little worried here."_

"Ash?" Sam questioned out loud, "He's found something?" _The demon perhaps?_ He wondered, barely daring to even think the words.

Curiosity and hope taking over, he played the last message, surprised when he heard Bobby's voice instead of Ellen's.

"_You boys better have a damn good reason for not answering your phones. Ellen called, said she's worried something's up. I swear to God if you boys have gone and do--"_

But before the message had the chance to finish, the phone beeped, signalling an incoming call. Pulling the phone away from his ear for mere moments, Sam stared at the screen, Bobby's name scrolling across as his phone asked if he wanted to accept or decline the call.

"Hey Bobby…" Sam answered, fully intending to explain himself but the elder hunter cut across him.

"'Bout time." Bobby growled, "You have any idea how many times we've tried calling you? You know what… never mind. Ellen wants you to call… she says Ash has got something, says it looks like the demon's working it's mojo and it could mean trouble."

"You really think he's found it?" Sam asked, taking the information in… finally after all these months… no, after all these_ years_… finally they had something.

"Sam…" Bobby started, taking a breath, "Don't go getting your hopes up just yet. For all we know it could be the Easter Bunny. Don't go convincing yourself it's _the _demon until you know for sure…"

"I know…" He agreed, hanging his head, knowing that it was already too late, his hopes were up. They were gonna find the demon…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Keeping the water turned on, Dean stepped out from the shower, grabbing the towel off the rail to dry himself down. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, face unmarred of bruises, scratches or any other physical signs that gave away the fact some ghost had been using him as a Frisbee the previous night.

Maybe the ghost hadn't hurt him as badly as he thought… but that didn't explain the shoulder.

But he knew that wasn't the reason. He knew what the cause was. He didn't want to admit it but he knew it had something to do with Lucifer. But he made his choice. He chose to be mortal… human. Normal average Joe human - someone who gets cut, someone who bleeds and someone who hurts… He'd always been a fast healer… but never this fast.

He scrubbed a hand across his face and through his damp hair, rubbing it to help removing the excess water that was slowly making its way towards his skin. He could hear Sam's voice through the door, a one way conversation that meant he was on the phone. Drying himself off some more, he pulled on his clean clothes and turned the shower off, opening the bathroom door to lean against the frame as he stared at his brother.

"I guess a couple of days… Dean would know better." Sam carried on with his phone call, not even noticing his brother had emerged, "Thanks Ellen."

"Ellen?" Dean asked, using the towel in his hand to rub his hair a bit more before throwing it back into the bathroom, "What she after?"

Sam put the phone on the table and looked up at his brother, "Ash thinks he may have found something…"

Dean immediately stiffened, standing up straight as he looked at Sam with narrowed eyes, "You mean the demon?"

"Looks that way."

"Where?"

"Didn't say," Sam shook his head, looking down at the phone sitting silently on the table, "Said that some of the stuff didn't make sense so I said we'd drop by."

Dean nodded and turned back into the bathroom, already starting to gather up all their things ready to leave, "Well pack it up then Sammy, it's time to hit the road."

"Dean, you're injured, I'm exhausted… and I'm pretty sure the car won't drive itself."

The eldest stilled, body turning rigid as he thought about the healed injuries, "I'm fine." He looked towards his brother through the doorway, "I'll take it easy... I swear."

"De-an…"

"No." He started before Sam had the chance to carry on, his mind already made up, "I want to be on the road in half an hour… With or without you."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Probably less than twenty minutes later, the brothers were packed up and ready to leave. It had been a low blow but Dean had known it would work. Sam wouldn't let his brother go anywhere alone, not when he thought there was still a chance of a concussion and then the whole shoulder business too.

It was strange to see the worried look in Sam's eyes when he knew he was fine, or at least he knew that Sam was worrying about the wrong thing. He hadn't even realised how tense Sam's gaze had made him until his brother fell asleep, snoring gently in the passenger seat.

Shifting restlessly, he eased just a little and turned up the music, not loud enough to wake his brother but loud enough so he could truly appreciate the great rock rhythm and lyrics. He tapped the steering wheel in time with the drumbeat, losing himself in the music to distract himself from unwanted thoughts.

They stopped a few times whilst driving, twice for gas and some snacks, once for some actual food and then another time when both were too exhausted to get behind the wheel and drive. They took turns but Dean stayed behind the wheel mostly, his reason being that it was his baby so _he'd_ be the one to drive her.

He didn't mind the driving, being behind the wheel kept him focused as he thought about his destination and what it could mean. The yellow eyed demon… it seemed too good to be true. But then again, as they had no way of killing him, it really was at that point. But it was a start.

When they reached the Roadhouse it was late, and from all the cars parked outside Dean guessed it was pretty busy. They'd never really stuck around as late as this to see the place in all its glory so it made a change, though Dean had to admit that seeing all those other hunters was going to be a little disconcerting.

"So the demon eh?" He swallowed as he climbed out of the Impala and turned to stare at his brother.

"I know… after everything we might finally have a lead."

Sam was smiling, the kid was actually smiling and for the first time in several hours his eyes weren't constantly watching Dean, waiting for him to suddenly fall unconscious or break into a thousand fragile pieces. It was contagious and Dean couldn't help but smile in return.

He led the way up to the bar, opening the door and passing through the threshold, followed immediately by Sam. His eyes wandered over the joint, taking in all the people gathered inside. Some were far too relaxed to be hunters, enjoying themselves and the company of those they were with. But then there were others who stiffened and tensed up when the door had opened, alert and aware of everything going on around them.

Without really knowing why, his gaze landed on a man hidden mostly by shadows in one of the far corners. He paused, feeling as if the man was watching him just as much as he was watching the man. He stared at where the man's eyes should be, his face too covered by shadows for Dean to be sure; feeling a cold shiver run down his spine as he was sure the man stared back into his.

Sam touched his shoulder and woke him from the trance, pointing towards Ellen at the bar, his brow once again turned into a frown as the worried look returned to his eyes, "You okay?"

"Yeah… just thought I saw something." He replied in a distracted manner, tearing his eyes away from the man and trying to shake the sudden uncomfortable feeling that had formed in the pit of his stomach.

Ellen waved them over as she finished serving one of the customers, passing the drink over and then turning to Sam and Dean as they approached. Leaning against the surface with her elbows so she was close enough to be heard, she nodded her head towards the back.

"Ash is in his room, it'll be closing time soon so you's can talk then… fewer eyes and ears about." She told them, pushing herself away from the bar once more and grabbing a couple of glasses from beneath it, "So you boys want a drink while you wait? On the house?"

Dean eyed the pint glass, opening his mouth as he thought about asking for something maybe a little stronger, but he nodded instead at her choice and took the drink silently as she passed it to him. He wondered idly when the last he saw Ellen was, flashes of the time that others had forgotten causing him to take a long drink of the beer in his glass.

His paranoia wasn't helping him settle down much either. He was sure the man in the corner was still watching him, he made a sweep of the room with his eyes as he pulled himself onto one of the stools at the bar, noting how the man hadn't moved in the entire time.

"You sure you're okay?" Sam asked, claiming the stool next to him and taking a swig of his own beer before plonking the glass down on the wooden surface.

"Yeah," He answered, glancing at Sam before looking behind him once more at the now empty table. He turned around just in time to see the front door close. _I'm losing it… I'm officially going crazy._ "I'm fine Sam."

But he was far from it. His mind was working overtime, questions blossoming and begging for attention. Just what had happened to those demons that had been looking for him before? Did they remember? Were there others? He hadn't thought of it before but being at the Roadhouse, seeing that guy… it made him think, made him wonder.

He wanted to focus on the reason they were there. _The demon for freak's sake… Ash thinks he's found the damn demon_. He wanted to. But he just couldn't. Lost in his own chaotic thoughts. _It was that guy… he gave me the creeps. Damn it… he was just a guy._

"Dean…" Sam uttered softly, touching his brothers arm with his finger tips.

When Dean looked at him, Sam seemed to stare straight into his soul, as if he was trying to figure him out and fearing that maybe he could, Dean averted his gaze, looking down and into the bottom of the glass.

"Did you hear what I said?" Sam asked, removing his fingers and instead using them to grip his own glass with both hands.

"Sorry Sammy, just got a little distracted." _And it's not like it's the first time._

"Yeah, I've noticed that lately." The younger brother sighed, fingers tightening around the glass in obvious frustration at being left out in the dark, "I was saying… what do we do when we find it?"

Dean cleared his throat and tapped the glass with his finger as he thought about the question, "I dunno… I doubt he's just carrying the colt around with him, pretty bold move if he is. Maybe we trap him and stop him from hurting anyone and then come up with something better…"

"You mean like just sending him back to Hell? Where he can crawl back up again?" Sam growled, "He killed Mom and Dad Dean… he killed Jess."

"Don't you think I know that?" Dean snapped, keeping his voice as low as possible before taking a breath and trying to calm himself a little, "Look, we'll figure something out. I'll go call Bobby, ask him if he has any ideas. Maybe he knows something new…"

Before Sam could stop him, he was up and off the stool, heading towards the door and pulling his dad's cell phone out as he went and adding 'get a new phone' to the list of things to do. He opened the door without a second glance back into the bar, thankful for the fresh air that met his skin, the gentle breeze allowing him to breath easy if only for a moment or two.

He stepped fully out into the night, allowing the door to swing closed behind him. He stood like that, drinking in the calm, stealing it for himself as his heart beat erratically in his chest, uneasy and unable to settle. Then a noise off to his right startled him, a slight shuffling of feet.

He stared into the shadows, taking a wary step towards them before jumping back as the man from earlier emerged. The man's eyes were wide, a manic smile plastered across his face as he studied Dean, looking him up and down excitedly.

"Who are you?" Dean asked, squirming under the intense gaze.

"They said they'd figured it out… said they'd found out who you were… I didn't believe them… no one did." The man spoke, rambling, eyes finally meeting Dean's, "And when they went missing… I had to come looking. And here you are… you're actually here."

Taking another step back, Dean shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I could barely believe my eyes when you walked through the door. I've been waiting for weeks for you to show up. And finally…"

"Who. Are. You?" Dean repeated, spitting each word at the stranger and already fearing the worst.

The man's eyes glazed over black and his smile widened, "Nothing more than your servant my Lord."

Frozen in place, Dean's blood ran cold. How could he tell? How could the demon tell what was locked up inside? "Who ever you think I am… I'm not. You've made a mistake."

"No no… there's no mistaking it. It's you. I've waited for you and now you're here. You came for me my Lord and now I will follow."

"You… you'll follow me?" Dean stammered, wondering if the demon had any idea who was in control 'cause it wasn't Lucifer… not anymore.

"I'll do whatever my Lord wants me to do." The demon even bowed its head, "I'll maim, I'll kill, I'll destroy… you name it."

"Will you die? Go back to Hell?" Dean asked after a pause, holding his breath whilst he waited for the demon to respond.

But instead of doing as Dean asked, instead of answering, the demon laughed, a horrible disgusting guffaw as it threw its head back and laughed some more, "You have a sense of humour! No one ever mentioned that before."

"So that'd be a no then?" He muttered, suddenly feeling trapped as he thought about how he could get rid of the demon in front of him.

"You want to test me my Lord?" The demon asked, standing straighter and holding his head high, "Then I shall go inside and kill the hunters…"

"What?! No!" Dean cried out, reaching for the man as he turned to leave, grabbing hold of his jacket and spinning him back around to face him.

"No?"

"No." He reiterated, hoping… praying the demon wouldn't try anything. He needed to get to Sam though… needed to find some way to trap the demon long enough to perform an exorcism.

The demon narrowed its eyes accusingly at him, reaching up to grab his arm tightly, "They kill our kind. They deserve to die."

"As do you." As voice echoed from behind Dean before he even managed to think anything else let alone say it.

Whoever it was that was behind him caused the demon to panic as it tried to get away, tugging itself free of Dean's grip. But it didn't get away fast enough, falling to the floor in a scrambling mess as it continued to crawl forwards until eventually it screamed in agony and the body turned to ash along with the demon smoke inside of it.

Dean swallowed hard, staring at the empty spot as the breeze carried away any remnants, disguising the murder… He felt the person behind him come up and stand next to his shoulder; he could feel their eyes on him, staring at him intently as he didn't dare move, phone and task forgotten at the thought of the new danger.

"Hello Dean."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	3. Here's a lullaby to close your eyes

.-.-.-.The Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Update time! I really wanted to get this updated sooner rather than later whilst it's been playing on my mind… especially since the workload is slowly building up… And it's another semi-long one… it's a miracle… three in a row? Somebody call the Vatican!

Thank you everyone for reading! And thanks for the awesome reviews. You guys rule for having the patience to read my stuff so thank you. Hope you enjoy!

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Here's a lullaby to close your eyes

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Dean stood stock still, eyes lowering and moving to the side as he slowly turned his head as well, not sure of what to expect but almost certainly not expecting to see the bright glowing amber eyes that stared back at him. "Jeremiel?"

The angel beside him raised a sardonic eyebrow at the eldest Winchester before walking towards the pile of dust that was once a man and kneeling in front of it. Whispering a silent prayer, Jeremiel closed his eyes for a moment, turning back towards Dean when he was finished, "You always this popular with demons?"

Dean blinked, any fear he had quickly dissipating as anger filled its place. He took a step forward, a growl etched into his voice, "You killed him. You killed an innocent man."

"He was already dead. You of all people should know how badly demons treat their hosts. The demon however… yes. I killed him." Standing up, Jeremiel made sure he was face to face with Dean. He looked him up and down, studying him carefully and Dean couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. It reminded him too much of how the demon had looked at him.

"He knew who I was." He stated flatly, trying to make sense of what that actually meant, trying to put all the pieces together.

"Well technically, it was only an educated guess." The angel replied, pulling a face that suggested he knew a lot more than he was letting on.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been watching him for a month now, since he showed up here." Jeremiel explained, eyes looking into the distance as he thought about what he was about to say, "Not everything could be reset… there were a group of demons who had been coming up with theories -"

Dean cocked his head to the side as he listened, letting the words intertwine with what he already knew, "You mean the Roadhouse demons… the ones that Ellen had called to warn us about?"

"So you're not completely clueless afterall?" The angel mocked, receiving a scowl from Dean in reply. He took a breath, considering his words carefully, "They were… disposed of. They were too much of a risk. We didn't realise that they'd told others their ideas though… if we'd known that then this wouldn't have happened."

"So what… you were waiting for him to talk to me? Waiting for me to just happen to show up before you 'disposed' of him too?"

"I wanted to know how much he knew."

"Well apparently he knew enough."

Jeremiel shook his head as Dean took to pacing the ground in front of him. He watched the hunter, eyes drawn to the faint shadow that played at the very edges of his soul. "Dean… you've got to understand something. He didn't know who you were. He just knew you weren't like everyone else who'd walked through that door. He knew that Lucifer would turn up here sometime and you were the first person to show any signs… there isn't a flashing neon sign above your head saying 'Lucifer'… you understand that right?"

"Signs?" Dean glared at Jeremiel, demanding the truth, "What do you mean by signs? He saw something in me, didn't he? Even if it wasn't Lucifer… he saw something."

"Sometimes when something is broken, no matter how hard you try… you can't glue it back together to be _exactly_ the same."

Dean's face fell. That wasn't the response he was looking for. "So you're saying Lucifer can -"

"Emerge?" The angel interrupted, raising his eyebrow once more, an amused smile creeping across his face and causing Dean to snarl as another wave of anger was sent coursing through his system. What the hell was so funny? "So you're saying you haven't noticed anything?" Jeremiel carried on, deliberately using Dean's own words against him as his eye's travelled down to Dean's once dislocated shoulder.

_Well that answers that question._ Dean thought dryly. Somehow knowing that the angel before him had the same suspicions as he'd been having didn't make him feel any better. He felt like someone had dropped an anvil inside his stomach and he swallowed hard before speaking, "So what does that mean?"

"You made your choice. You chose to be Dean Winchester. Only you can change that now."

"Then why are you here? I'm not planning on changing my persona any time soon."

"I told you, I was watching the demon."

"But that's not all, right? You're forgetting I still remember being Lucifer - I remember what he remembers, I know what he knows and I know that's not the only reason you're here. You wouldn't waste your time on something so small."

Jeremiel grinned, eyes wrinkling mischievously, "I like you. I think you've got potential…"

"You're not gonna tell me are you?"

"I'm just doing a little recon, I swear."

_A little recon?_ Dean frowned. So Jeremiel _was_ up to something else and he couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with what Ash had found. Looking down at the ground, he stood for a moment in thought, only barely aware of the sound of a door opening behind him.

"Dean?" A voice echoed from near the door and he span on the spot, turning to face the puzzled face of Sam, "What did Bobby say?"

The forgotten phone in his hand suddenly held more weight and he fumbled with it as he brought it up to look at the unused screen, "I er… haven't actually called him yet."

"Then what have you been doing out here for the past _twenty_ minutes?" Sam questioned, frustration clearly showing in his voice and face as he emphasised how long Dean had been gone.

_Twenty minutes? Has it really been that long? Impossible… he has to be exaggerating._ He swung around to look at Jeremiel for some support or at least some confirmation of the time, and if he was honest, he wasn't surprised in the least to find that the angel had disappeared. "There was a guy… he wanted some directions."

There was a mere moment's silence before Sam spoke again, voice tentative and small. "Are you okay Dean?" Sam asked, and Dean felt his heart ache as he looked into the trade mark puppy dog eyes that Sammy had a habit of wearing when he was worried and didn't know what to do to make things better.

"Yeah, 'course I am." He tried for a smile, though Sam wasn't buying it at all. He knew Dean too well, he knew when something was up and no matter how well Dean hid what was going on, Sam was always bound to notice he was hiding something.

"How's your head?"

"Dude, I swear. I'm fine."

"What about your shoulder?"

"Saa-aam." Dean warned; voice low as he growled at his younger brother.

"Yeah, yeah… I know - you're fine." Sam returned Dean's words to him, sighing as he puzzled over his brothers behaviour but before he could interrogate him any further the door opened once more as people began to filter out of the Roadhouse.

Ellen's voice could be heard drifting through the now open doorway as she moved about the place in an attempt to empty it, "Pack it up boys - home time. I'm closing early tonight." Most were making their way out but one last patron remained, drunk and angry as he pushed Ellen away when she tried to make him stand.

Hands on her hips, she snarled at the man and reached out to pull him from his seat once more but he waved her away again, stumbling up by himself whilst snatching an item off the table that he'd been toying with and walking clumsily towards the door. Sam held it open for him as the drunk muttered and mumbled under his breath, the stench of whiskey following him.

He looked at Sam as he passed, a scowl planted firmly on his features before he swung to show Dean the same unpleasant expression, grumbling about getting thrown out before he even finished his drink. He hesitated as he looked at Dean, looking as if he was about to say something else but instead carried on mumbling as he headed towards an old dusty pick up truck.

"Is it safe to let him go like that?" Dean asked, watching the old man struggle with his keys, dropping them a couple of times before finally opening the door to his truck.

"That's just ol' Harry. He'll sleep it off in the truck - always does." Ellen explained as she started to clear the tables, balancing glasses in both hands.

With one last glance at the old man, Dean moved passed Sam and into the warmth of the room as Sam followed and closed the door behind them. They took up their seats at the bar again, Dean grabbing his drink and downing it whilst Sam merely took a sip of his.

As if on cue, laptop and gear in hand, Ash emerged from the back and dropped down on the seat next to Sam. "Sam and Dean Winchester… here to see little old me." He spoke as slowly set everything up ready, voice lazy and self-satisfied.

"You got something for us Ash?" Dean asked, straight to business, wanting to get his mind off the things that currently occupied his thoughts.

"Cattle deaths, stormy weathers… you name it, I got it." The younger man replied, swinging the screen around so the brothers could see, "Just east of Watertown, South Dakota."

Sam stared at the screen, several windows open showing all the sources of data and a map behind them all with tiny points of colour mostly located in South Dakota, "For real?"

"Affirmative my friend. I told you… first sign of this fugly bastard and I'd know."

"You're a genius Ash." Sam couldn't help but smile, staring at the collection of dots.

Dean frowned as his eyes strayed to an odd colour on the map further away from all the others, reaching out, he pointed at it and began to question it before Ash could accept his praise from Sam, "What's this one here?"

"That… that is… I don't actually know what that is. Happened two months ago, like a blip, gone as quick as it came."

"Two months ago?" Dean's heart was racing as he looked at the location, it was around about the same place he and Sam had been.

"It that what you were talking about on the phone?" Sam asked, turning to face Ellen.

"We didn't know what it meant, thought you might have had a better idea whether or not it was connected to the demon." She replied, walking up behind them to stand at their shoulders.

Sam shook his head as he contemplated the unusual spot, chewing the side of his mouth, "I dunno… maybe it's something else… some other demon."

"Whatever it was, it 'caused a blackout across the whole state, not to mention it left some pretty nasty weather behind."

"Blackout… I think I heard about that." Sam puzzled, before taking another swig of his remaining drink.

Dean frowned, eyes trained on his brother as he watched the younger sibling for a moment before asking the question burning inside his mind, "What blackout?"

"You slept through the news report."

"Sounds like me." Dean shrugged, accepting the reply. Though he was almost certain Sam's abruptness was his little brother's way of telling him that yeah, he knew they were there when it happened but wasn't about to let Ellen or Ash know about.

"Can we get copies of all of this?"

Ash raised an eyebrow at Sam and Dean thought for a moment that the conspiracy theorist wannabe would object but instead, he pulled out a folder from amongst all the papers and handed it to the youngest Winchester, "Already done Sammio."

"Sammio?" Dean mouthed, smirking at the name before clapping his brother on the back and making to stand up, "Come on_ Sammio_, if we get moving we might make it there by midday."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Wha?" The eldest asked, face genuinely puzzled as if he really saw no problem in what he'd suggested, movements haltered so he was halfway off his bar stool while he waited for Sam to answer.

"Ellen," Sam called out instead, "You still got those beds out back?"

"You boys wan'em, then they're there."

"Thanks Ellen." He smiled, turning to face Dean once more and sighing as his brother looked like he was about to argue, "Dean, listen to me. We need to rest; if only for tonight. First thing tomorrow we'll set off but you're gonna burn yourself out if you keep going on like this."

It didn't take a genius, or a college boy, to see that Dean was on edge and majorly fuelled up on adrenaline. Sam could see his brother wanting to debate further but instead he swallowed and nodded, "Fine.." Dean breathed, "Just tonight though… then we're gone - first thing."

"Good!" Sam replied triumphantly, jumping off his stool and holding his hand out for the keys to the Impala, "I'll go get our bags."

"What part of 'just tonight' don't you understand?" Dean grumbled, though pulling the keys out and handing them to Sam as he did so.

"Might not be your type of thing Dean, but I wouldn't mind a change of clothes."

But before the elder Winchester could even defend himself, Sam had grabbed the keys and was already out of the door, walking towards the Impala. His eyes wandered over to Harry's truck where it appeared as though the older man was sleeping soundly, though probably extremely uncomfortably. He idly wondered whether he had been a hunter at some point in his life, he had the look of a hunter but at the same time, Sam doubted he was in any shape to be chasing down ghosts and ghoulies…

Without having to think too much about it, Sam had opened up the trunk and had grabbed the bags that they needed, allowing for his thoughts to wander onto other things, like the random colour spot and the mention of the blackout.

He remembered the blackout. He hadn't thought much of it at the time though, he'd been heading back to the motel after grabbing some coffee and he noticed a few of the shop lights flicker and fade. Nothing extreme enough to require much thought at all. But looking back, he wondered if maybe he should have put more thought into it; he wondered if maybe they should have stayed behind to check it out. After all, if Sam was right, it was ever since then that Dean slowly started acting more and more distant. Was it just a coincidence?

"Dean would have told me if he knew something." He tried to reassure himself out loud. But then, what if something had happened to his brother and Dean _didn't_ know about it?

Sam shook his head to clear his thoughts, making his features unreadable before re-entering the saloon bar. He'd learned that from the master of masks - 'don't let them see you've been thinking too deeply or they'll want to know what about' - 'least that was how Sam always interpreted it whenever Dean suddenly went from a deep thought filled frown to a blank face or his usual cocky façade.

Dean was already lying on one of the beds in the spare room by the time Sam got there, one leg out flat, the other bent at the knee, arms folded behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Unable to resist the temptation, Sam dropped Dean's bag on top of him, eliciting a small 'oomph' from the older sibling.

"What you thinking about?" Sam asked, taking a seat on his designated bed.

"Killing the demon." Dean lied easily, though Sam suspected it was partially the truth.

"You called Bobby yet?"

Dean shook his head as he dragged himself up into a seated position, letting his bag fall to the floor so he could toe his boots off, "Thought we could call at his on the way… we'll be passing near by there anyway."

Sam nodded, leaving the next question unasked; what were they gonna do if Bobby didn't know of another way to kill the demon? He mimicked Dean's action, taking his boots off and sliding out of his jeans so he could climb under the covers. He hadn't even realised just how tired he was until his head hit the pillow and he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Sam…" Dean asked, stopping Sam from dozing.

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you mention the blackout before?"

"Didn't think it was important… I'm still not sure it is." He replied truthfully, eyes still closed. He heard Dean shuffling next to him, climbing under his own covers and he breathed deeply, listening for the click when Dean turned the lamp off. Silence had barely fallen before Sam chose to break it again, "Dean…"

"Yeah?"

He opened his mouth to ask Dean whether something had happened but the words refused to come, so instead he sighed and muttered, "Never mind."

Dean sensed the hesitation; he knew what Sam was going to ask. If Sam had been acting how he had been, the same question would be on his lips, begging to be asked. As much as he'd tried acting like everything was normal though, he just couldn't. If nothing else, Jeremiel and that demon showing up were proof that things weren't going to be the way they were before.

"Sam, I know I've been acting weird… I'm just tired." He tried to explain but he knew it didn't cut it, knew that Sam wanted to know _why_ he was tired. But he didn't have the energy to argue.

Sam scoffed, eyes opening as he stared up at the darkened ceiling, face wrinkled into a frown, something he felt he wore too often lately, constantly contemplating, "Maybe we should have stopped by sooner… to take a break… 'stead of driving out to Mississippi."

"What? And miss out on the amazingly cowardly German Shepherd? I can't believe she thought her dog was possessed."

"If I remember correctly… you were right there with her."

"Mock all you like Sammy boy. I didn't really expect it to be possessed. What sort of demon possesses a dog?"

And there it was again… de ja vu. Sam blinked and turned to his side to try in vain to see his brother in the dim light. But from what he could see, he was alone in the feeling, Dean oblivious to the strong sense of 'already happened' that was flowing through Sam.

"Yeah…" He said absently as he rolled back onto his back, "It would be weird."

Dean couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face as he thought about the type of demon that _would_ possess a dog, feeling a twinge as he missed the hellhound. He barely caught the deep sigh escaping before Sam heard it, turning it into a silent breath as he closed his eyes and let his heartbeat slow, sleep swiftly coming to claim him and take him to a place he wished he could forget.

His brow wrinkled and he groaned in the darkness, the noise falling on deaf ears as his brother rested in a much more peaceful sleep.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	4. Even an end has a start

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Heya guys! First off - thank you all for reading! It means the world to me :D And thanks for the awesome feedback; it always brings a smile to my face. Nice longish one for ya for waiting so patiently for me.

I'm also posting a mini poem separately to go along with this little tale of Lucifer's… but it's not important to the story so don't worry :D

Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter… oh… And Happy Halloween!!!!

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Even an end has a start

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_The place had barely changed since the last time he'd seen it - just an open never ending desert. Lava and fire filled the sky and the tree, that he assumed symbolised his darker half, stood tall and imposing._

_He gazed at it, taking it in as he walked closer; absently his eyes traced the wrought iron fencing that now surrounded the trunk of the tree. The design was breathtaking, comprised of symbols he recognised from this life and Lucifer's as well. From simple pentagrams to more detailed devil's traps. He could even see the sigil of Lucifer appearing once or twice. But then there were other symbols that he didn't recognise. He assumed they were Jeremiel's doing._

_His eyes dropped to the desert floor at the base of the fence, watching as the ground broke and the sand shifted. A root surfaced, trying to inch its way towards him. Unconsciously, he took a step backwards. The fence seemed to move with him, expanding so that the sharp bars cut through the escaping root, causing it to squirm and screech in pain as it bled a deep crimson red colour._

_When it stopped moving, the fence retracted, happy that it had stopped the root from going any farther. The solid part of the root turned to ash almost instantly, dissipating quickly on the warm wind that swept by and leaving only the blood-stained ground._

_Now that Dean looked closer, he could see other darkened spots surrounding the fence where he assumed more roots had tried to break free. He had to guess that maybe Lucifer wasn't happy about being suppressed so much, he just hoped the protection was enough._

"_Well that explains a few things…" He thought out loud, kneeling down to investigate the blood stains more closely._

_But the iron fence creaked warningly, as if telling him not to touch, and he pulled his hand back obediently, wondering what would happen if he ever did touch the stuff or if the roots ever made it out._

_A hand grasped his shoulder tightly and he started, spinning on the spot and half expecting to see himself staring back. But as he span, the dream faded and he opened his eyes just in time to see Sam remove his hand._

"Dean?" The youngest asked, and Dean frowned when he noticed that his brother was fully dressed.

"'the hell Sammy?" He grumbled, pushing himself up and stretching out as best he could.

"It's morning Dean. Well… barely. I thought I'd wake you seen as you didn't show any signs of waking up by yourself."

"'Time is it?" Dean asked, scrubbing a hand across his eyes whilst ignoring Sam's comment, the memories of the dream disappearing the longer he was awake.

"Just gone eleven."

"You're joking, right? Why didn't you wake me sooner?"

Sam shrugged in response, failing to voice that he thought Dean could use the extra few hours sleep 'cause God forbid the guy could actually be anything less than the perfect soldier… He knew what Dean would say, could hear his brother's voice clearly in his head as if he _had_ said it.

But now that Dean was awake, he made sure that they were both ready to go within the hour, packing everything up in the Impala whilst Sam passed their thanks on to Ellen, who would later pass them onto Ash, whenever he decided to come back to the land of the living that was... They had a good few hours worth of driving ahead of them if they wanted to reach Bobby's before it got too late and Dean wanted to alright, he made sure he told Sam at least four times before they set off and then continued to tell him whilst driving so that the youngest wouldn't forget. Not that he had any intention of forgetting.

It was at the gas station in South Dakota that Sam noticed the truck just sitting several feet behind them, but he didn't think anything of it until he saw the dirty pick up pull off mere seconds after they had - the driver never once leaving the vehicle whilst it had been stopped.

"Dean…" He started, concentrating on the view in the side mirror.

"I know…" Dean answered, glancing momentarily in the rear-view mirror, "He's been following us since the Roadhouse."

"The Roadhouse?" Sam questioned, turning to frown at his brother, "Is that…"

"Harry the drunk? Yeah."

"What the hell, Dean…?"

"I dunno Sam… kinda freaking me out actually."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I figured he'd have stopped following us by the time you even noticed."

"Yeah well, he hasn't." Sam muttered, shifting uneasily in his seat and looking back towards the mirror, "You think he's possessed?"

"I dunno… maybe? Or maybe he just wants a piece of you, ey Sammy?" Dean scoffed, grinning at Sam as the youngest rolled his eyes.

"You're the one he was ogling."

_I know_. Dean couldn't help but think, remembering the way the old guy seemed to scrutinise him. "I prefer the term 'admiring without intention of interacting', thank you very much."

Feeling restless and paranoid, the brothers took turns in glancing through the mirrors as the pick up truck tried, and failed, to stay at a none-suspicious distance behind them. It stayed there all the way to Singer's Salvage Yard, going straight passed as Dean took the turning into it. But the boys had no doubt the old guy wouldn't go far.

Pulling up near the house, the boys climbed out of the Impala and trekked up to the door, all the while still looking over their shoulders for any sign of Harry. Bobby opened the door before the even got to it, crossing his arms in impatience as he cocked his eyebrow up in a questioning manner.

"One day you boys'll show up and I won't be home. I'll be out working a case and then you'll really be screwed… 'less you plan on breaking into ma home without ma permission."

"Shoulda called then?" Sam smiled sheepishly, shrugging by means of apology.

"Well ya here now." The elder hunter shook his head gently as he spoke, stepping aside so the boys could pass him.

"Thanks Bobby."

"Hey… err, Bobby, you know anything about an old guy named Harry… hangs out at the Roadhouse?" Dean started, curiosity getting the better of him as he thought about their strange stalker.

"Do you have any idea how many Harry's I know?"

"So that's a no then?"

Sighing, Bobby directed them through to what was supposed to be the living room but it looked more and more like a library each time the boys were there, "Didn't say I couldn't tell ya, just need a better description than 'the old guy'."

"Drives a pick up, looks like it's never been washed… thinks his best friend is the liquid in his whiskey glass…"

"Harry Chambers. Not much to tell… once over he was a good hunter, was the family business. Too many knocks to the noggin saw to that… now, well, he's got more than a fair few screws loose. Started working less cases, drinking more and more between them until he became a full time alcoholic."

"Why would he be interested in us?" Sam asked, pursing his lips as he frowned in puzzlement. "He's been trailing us." He added when Bobby raised his eyebrow yet again.

"He's harmless mostly… rants and raves sometimes, claims he can see into people… but be careful. Sometimes it's the crazy unpredictable ones who end up the most dangerous. Just watch your backs…"

Grabbing a book from one of the many piles, he shoved the volume into Sam's hands without any explanations for his actions until the brothers looked up at him with amused expressions. "Well ya didn't come here to ask bout some kook who's glued to ya like a shadow… Figured after that phone call with Ellen you'd be looking for a way to kill this demon."

"And you found something?"

Bobby laughed, turning on the spot and moving off towards the kitchen, calling over his shoulder as he went, "Funny… you should be a comedian… _you boys _want answers, _you_ gotta look for 'em. I ain't got time to be going through every single one of those things. Especially not on my weekend off."

"But you're gonna help us right?" Dean called after him, moving out into the hallway when Bobby failed to answer him, "Right?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Not completely cruel, Bobby did return with a couple of beers in hand, most likely spiked with holy water but it was cold and wet so the brother's didn't mind. And he did help them a little, picking out a few books that might help the boys and commenting on what the boys had found, which was so little it barely accounted for a full page in a book.

By the morning, the beers were swapped for coffees, all three thankful for the caffeine to be running through their systems. The only thing the boys could find was a rite that could work, then again it could also fail miserably, leaving the boys vulnerable and in serious trouble. But considering the fact that they only had so long before the demon decided to move again, it was their only resort - Bobby on speed dial for any backup they may need.

Sam didn't even protest when Dean suggested heading off without even a couple of hours sleep. He stayed awake for the most part as Dean drove, but with nothing to concentrate on, not even Harry and his pick up truck as the old guy seemed to have vanished from the roads, he ended up drifting off into a light sleep for an hour or so anyway. The dreams were always the same, only lately they'd been filled with a few new things, muddled feelings and images.

When he woke, he always remembered being unable to breathe, his chest aching and struggling as his lungs tried their hardest to bring in air. And then there was the pair of eyes that gazed out through the darkness, like fiery pits of lava.

He never told Dean. Just figured it was some sort of way of him dealing with everything they did, all the hunting, the moving around, the getting hurt and having to face the unthinkable. Besides, he never remembered all that much when he woke, just enough to make him shiver.

He blinked his eyes open and tried to keep his breathing even as he pulled himself from the dreams, stretching his body out as much as he could in what little space he had. Glancing at his watch and then out at the passing scenery, he looked for any signs that might tell him where they were but failing to find any, he turned to Dean.

"How much further we got to go?" He questioned, stifling a yawn as he studied his brother's red rimmed eyes and pale complexion, "You want me to drive for awhile?"

Dean plastered on a smirk and looked at Sam, walls going up as he tried to hide just how appealing that offer sounded, "You ask me this now? Jeez, you pick your moments. If I didn't know any better I'd swear you have an in built alarm system that wakes you up soon as we reach our destination."

"We're there… here?" Sam's brows pulled together as his gaze switched to the view beyond the window once more as if suddenly expecting to see a flashing neon sign, "This is it?"

"Dude, I thought you were the smart one?" Dean teased, eyes landing on a motel signpost that indicated they had vacancies, "Yeah, we're here."

"Oh…"

"Oh? That's all you've got to say?"

Sam shrugged, unsure of what he _could_ say. If Ash was right and if they weren't too late, the demon was in town. But even then, there was no guarantee that they'd find it… or for that matter, kill it. He couldn't help but have a bad feeling about the whole situation.

Dean went up to the office whilst Sam stayed in the car, returning five minutes later with the key to their room. As soon as they were in the room, Dean had dropped down onto his claimed bed, passing out almost instantly and Sam couldn't blame him. He followed suit as soon as he'd placed his bag on the floor and kicked off his boots, thankful that the bed was actually kind of comfortable for a motel bed.

Next thing Sam knew, he was waking to the sound of the motel phone buzzing annoyingly. Rolling over, he opened one eye to look at his brother, who had conveniently grabbed a pillow and shoved it over his exposed ear to block out the sound. He scoffed, unable to help himself. That must mean it was his job to answer the call.

"Hello?" He asked, picking up the handset and forcing back a yawn.

"Morning Mr Snyder, this is your six o'clock wake up call." Chimed a voice on the other end, "Have a nice day."

And then they were gone. Confused, Sam placed the phone back where it belonged and pulled himself up on his bed. "Dean?" He asked, picking up his pillow and tossing it at his brother when the eldest refused to answer, "Dean!"

"Dude… I'm trying to sleep." Dean moaned, rolling over to look at his brother with a face that read 'this better be important or you _will _pay'.

"You order a wake up call?" Sam questioned; the feeling that something was wrong growing as his brother looked at him with clear puzzlement written on his features.

"Why would _I_ order a wake up call?"

"Never mind… they probably just got the wrong room."

Throwing his pillow to the side, Dean dragged himself up and off the bed, annoyed and frustrated that his sleep had been interrupted by something so trivial. "You know what… I give up. I guess the big guy upstairs just doesn't want me to sleep…" He growled, grabbing his bag from the floor and searching through it for clean clothes as he added a mumble of words under his breath, "And they call _me_ cruel."

"Dean Winchester starting the day before the sun's even fully risen… I guess miracles do happen." Sam teased; deciding that he must have misheard his brother's murmured words. The glare he received for his remark nearly made him physically withdraw, and he held up his hands in apology. Maybe teasing his brother before Dean had had any caffeine to fully wake him up was a bit like playing with fire…

"I'm taking a shower." Dean declared, grabbing his chosen items and disappearing into the bathroom. He returned half an hour later rubbing at his hair with a towel, torso bare and glistening from the remaining droplets of water that ran down the perfectly carved muscles.

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered something about Dean leaving him some hot water before entering the now misty room. When he finally finished his shower, Dean was sitting at the table with a bag of food, a couple of coffees and a newspaper. Pulling his shirt on, he grabbed the coffee that stood by itself and took a long sip, happy for the warm substance to ease its way down his throat. One look inside the goody bag and he decided he wasn't that hungry anyway, Dean may have liked his breakfast greasy and salty but Sam, sometimes it was just too early for certain things.

"Anything in the paper?" Sam asked, pulling up a seat and tilting his head to the side as he read the headline on the front.

"Nothing that screams 'demon', no… Maybe he skipped town already."

"You really think that?"

"I dunno," Dean sighed, folding the paper and tossing it towards Sam to look at, "I mean, 'cording to Ash, he's not just up to his regular love 'em and leave 'em… seems maybe he's planning something bigger this time."

"Where do we start then?" Sam groaned at the thought, knowing that trying to find the demon would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

Picking at a piece of bacon on the foam plate in front of him, Dean sat pensive for a moment before answering, "Birth records maybe? That's what he was up to last time… If it's even him in the first place…"

Sam couldn't help the snort of sardonic laughter that escaped, shaking his head as he spoke, "It's him. I just know it is…"

"Your freaky ESP thing?"

"Maybe, but I just know he's here - there's just something _off_ about this place."

"Whatever you say SuperSam." The eldest teased, pushing himself away from the table and grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the chair. He slid into it with ease, flicking the collar up so that it was typically Dean Winchester. It always earned him an eye roll from his brother but it was out of habit now more than anything, "You coming with or you just gonna laze 'round here all day?"

"You can't even wait for my hair to dry?" Sam questioned, mimicking Dean and standing up and moving away from the table. He ran a hand quickly through his hair to quickly flick out any excess water that he could and grabbed his boots and hoodie, muttering under his breath as he pulled them on.

"Aww, is princess worried about her hair?" Dean laughed, jangling the car keys as he waited impatiently.

Pointing the shoe that he was just about to place on his foot at his brother, Sam growled out a warning, "One more word Dean… just one more and I swear you'll never _ever_ taste sugar or caffeine again."

The eldest pouted slightly, drawing his face into a sulk as he waited for Sam to finish with his boots, following him out the room when he was ready with an almost silent mutter, "That was just mean."

They didn't expect it to be easy, but they didn't expect it to be so damn difficult either. There was no way they could follow up on all the babies born in the last six months and there was nothing in the library to indicate there had been any nursery fires a little over two decades ago. If the demon was in town, he probably knew they were there too by now.

So with nowhere left to go by the time they were kicked out of the library because it was closing time, they headed to the nearest bar in hopes that maybe they'd overhear something whilst enjoying a nice relaxing drink. At least that's what Dean had used as an excuse to get Sam to agree to the idea of a cold beer.

As soon as they entered the bar, Dean clapped his brother on the back, eyes darting towards a door at the back with a sign that read 'Men'. "Be right back Dude, gotta take a leak." He said as he pushed himself away and left Sam to order the drinks.

He didn't even notice the other guy follow him into the room until he was unzipping and heard a clicking noise from the door as the stranger locked it behind him. Not keen on being caught in an embarrassing situation, he pulled his zipper back up and stood defensively as he looked at the guy, "Hey, dude, I'm still in here…"

He scoffed inside his mind, already knowing that the man was quite aware of his presence. Turning away from the lock on the door, the guy looked him up and down, a smile on his face and something akin to hunger in his eyes. Dean shifted uneasily, knowing that this wasn't going to end pretty.

"You want something?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

The guy licked his lips before answering, still eyeing Dean, "Your body."

He tried his best for a casual laugh, but it probably came off slightly more nervous than he meant it to, "Look man, I hate to break it to ya - well, I don't really - but I don't swing that way."

"Don't flatter yourself _Dean_; I only want to borrow it."

And that caused his blood to run cold, every hair on his body standing on end as the man's eyes flashed a murky yellow and his grin broadened.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	5. As Dust Dances

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N:BIG BIG BIG thank you to everyone reading this and everyone sticking with me even though it's mean over a month and a half since my last update. Life has been hectic, study work is piling up and I keep getting sick, lol. But here we go, update time. Hope you enjoy!!

Finishing this chapter was a birthday treat for myself, he he. So now I can relax and go play my new guitar hero!!!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As Dust Dances

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"You." Dean forced out, the word filled with accusation and hate.

The possessed man splayed his arms as he seemed to enjoy the shock written on Dean's face, "Me."

Swallowing hard, Dean felt his entire body tense up. Well this was unexpected… sure, he figured the demon probably knew they were in town but he didn't imagine that it would come and actually seek them out. And now he wanted to use Dean as a meat suit? Nah-ah, no way… wasn't it bad enough that he had to put up with Lucifer locked up inside his mind and soul?

"You don't want to do this." He warned; putting his hand out in front of him by means of protection, his body reacting on instinct even though his mind knew it wouldn't help.

"You're right, I don't." The yellow eyed demon drawled, "But I haven't gone to all the trouble of setting this up just to let Sammy get away from me."

A trap? It was a freaking trap so he could get his filthy hands on Sam? And they just walked right into it… "You can't have him."

"_You_ can't stop me."

"I can try."

The demon laughed, looking Dean over once more, "There's something different about you Dean… you've changed somehow. But if you think that's gonna help you - you're mistaken."

And without another word, the man dropped to his knees as demon smoke poured from his mouth simultaneously. It sailed through the air towards the unprepared Dean as he stumbled backwards a step, nearly tripping over his own feet. His heart was racing so fast he thought he was going to throw up and then... _whack!_

He couldn't see anything passed the thick black smoke. He was scared to breathe in case it travelled down into his lungs. But instead it hung there, as if it had hit an invisible wall. A pressure was rising inside Dean's skull, the pain steadily growing the longer the smoke hung there. God, what the Hell was the demon _doing_?

And then the smoke retreated, so violently that it made one last push towards Dean and caused him to fall to the floor as the demon essence once more spilled into the other man, repossessing him.

Struggling to regain his composure, Dean propped himself up on one elbow and coughed as he tried to draw in breath, thankful for what little oxygen he managed to retrieve. His head was pounding and he could feel the warm trickle of blood tracing a path from his nose to over his lips.

The demon recovered much quicker, standing up and storming over to Dean. Dropping down so he could get a better look at Dean, he grabbed the hunter's chin and forced the eldest Winchester to look at him as he gazed into the deep soulful eyes, seeing beyond just the surface.

"You!" He growled out, mimicking Dean's earlier words.

Dean glared back, defiance written on his features as he wondered just who the demon was referring to. His question didn't go unanswered for long though as the demon shoved Dean's face away and stood, lashing out and kicking Dean hard in the stomach, forcing his body to roll over as all air left his lungs.

"The great fucking Lucifer, the greatest traitor of 'em all, in it for himself and no one else… _trapped_ inside the mind of the biggest pain in my ass?" The demon laughed sadistically, kneeling down once more but not touching, just looking… "I am going to enjoy destroying you."

"Go screw yourself." Dean spat at him, cringing at the pain in his side when he shifted slightly. He idly wondered if the bastard had managed to crack a rib with that kick and wouldn't that just complete this whole experience if he had. Damn, the sons of bitches just loved to kick him while he was down… literally.

The demon opened his mouth to say something further but the sound of the door handle rattling along with a pounding on the wooden surface distracted him, drawing his attention away from Dean and towards the door. Dean would have been thankful if only it hadn't meant Sam now being put in danger. Oh yeah, Sam sure picked his times.

"Dean!" Came his brother's muffled voice through the door, strained and worried as if he was trying to keep it in check.

He was half tempted to call out and tell Sam that everything was fine but as pain laced its way through him once more, he knew that wouldn't be the wisest decision. They so weren't prepared for this… they weren't ready. How the hell were they supposed to fight the demon here?

But as the demon swooped down on him, gripping his jacket tightly and dragging him up from the ground, he figured he wasn't going to have to worry about that.

"Sam is _mine_." The demon hissed, angry spittle flying into Dean's face, "And you, whatever name you're going by, are _dead._"

Without another word, Dean was thrown backwards towards the door, his body colliding with the wall painfully. His vision blurry, he watched as the demon smoke left the innocent body and went shooting off towards the barely open window as he slid down the wall, no longer able to stand, eyes drifting closed.

The pounding on the door increased though, forcing him to stay awake. His eyes snapping open, he pushed himself up from the cold tiled floor and towards the door. Unlocking it, he tugged it open, his knees immediately giving way as Sam burst through it, his young hands grabbing Dean before he crashed to the ground.

"Dean… what the hell?" The young Winchester muttered, eyes rolling over Dean and taking in the bruises and blood on his skin. His hand moved up to cup Dean's chin as his head hung forwards.

"Demon." He said, voice not up to explaining any further as he tried to use Sam as leverage to pull himself up but his ribs sent waves of sharp pain through his body in protest and he bit down hard on his lip, trying to stop the cry escaping. Why him? Why did this type of stuff always keep happening to him?

Sam swallowed hard, his eyes searching the room behind Dean and no doubt landing on the body lying motionless in the middle of the bathroom, an empty shell that was once a human being before being used as a tool for a sadistic demon.

"It's okay Dean, they've gone." His voice was tense as he spoke, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist and pulling him up. Through half closed eyes Dean saw him grimace at the gasp of pain he couldn't hold back when Sam caught his midsection.

_Thank you Captain Obvious, I already knew that much_. "The guy… what about-" Dean tried, his head feeling heavy and tongue thick as he couldn't get the words out into a complete sentence. The guy was still in there, the one that the demon had been using as a suit…

Sam nodded as he helped Dean towards the exit and the eldest Winchester allowed his eyes to close, his body becoming more and more dead weight for Sam to carry.

"There's a guy in there… I think he might be hurt. He might need an ambulance."

_Hell, he'll need more than an ambulance._ Dean thought to himself, as he heard Sam's words to the man behind the bar, because he knew it would already be too late for the guy. He was probably already cold and hard, his body long since dead.

He felt Sam give him a gentle shake as he slid him into the passenger seat of the Impala. Prying open one he, he bit his lip and wrapped his arm around his injured ribcage and cursing inwardly as he saw Sam's eyes immediately drop down to it.

"Dean, what happened? What did they do to you?"

Dean shook his head, allowing it to hang forwards as he tried his hardest to push back the pain. "Besides the obvious?" He grumbled; his voice only just a whisper.

"Jesus Dean…" Sam cursed, already pushing himself up and closing the door, circling the car to get in the other side. He started the black beast up and glanced at his brother quickly before setting off back for the motel, "You are like a freaking magnet for trouble."

Mumbling in agreement, Dean shifted in his seat, eyes drifting closed briefly before snapping back open. He had to stay awake; it was too dangerous to let his guard down. He had to protect Sam.

"What were they after Dean?" Sam asked eventually, breaking the silence that had fallen in the car.

"Trap… the whole thing's a trap. Old Yellow Eyes…" He explained; swallowing around the lump in his throat as his unfocused eyes watched the world fly by passed the window, "Wanted me out the way."

Sam nearly swerved, head turning to look at Dean momentarily before his gaze went back to the road, "Jesus Dean! Why didn't you say something?!"

"I just did Sam." He sighed in reply, arms loosening from around his midsection as the pain slowly started to ease. But that wasn't possible… damn, his injuries were starting to heal faster and faster, Sam was bound to start noticing if this kept up.

"I meant back there… never mind." Sam growled out as he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it gently whilst his other hand remained on the wheel, "We'll just have to take extra precautions with the room."

"We? Injured party here dude, I'm kicking back with a shotgun and watching you do the grunt work."

"Nice to know we're a team."

"A damn good team needs a damn good leader Sammy and the leader gets to boss the other guys about."

"Ye-hah? Well I'll just remember that for next time _boss_." Sam rolled his eyes as he spoke, turning into the car park of the motel and parking up just outside their room. He turned off the engine and sat for a moment, turning to look at his brother as Dean rested his head back against the seat, eyelids closed.

"Dude, quit it… that's creepy." The eldest muttered and Sam growled under his breath, forcing his worried gaze away as he creaked the car door open and moved around the car to help Dean.

When Sam helped him up and out the car, he flinched, a twinge of pain reminding him of his ribs but not as severe as before. He could tell that Sam was a little happier now that Dean was practically capable of walking by himself once more but he doubted his brother would feel the same way if he knew exactly _why_ he was healing so quickly.

But he kept up the pretences and Sam seemed happy enough to follow along, or at least he did for now. He was growing ever closer to the point of asking questions, Dean could tell. As much as he ignored it and pretended that he couldn't see Sam pretending not to notice, he knew.

He watched from the bed as Sam salted the windows, fingertips moving along the smooth cold surface of the shotgun in his hands. Two months. Jeremiel had said his secret could get out but he hadn't dreamed it would be out so soon and now the yellow eyed demon of all demons knew. Well that was just perfect.

"Sam…" He started, shifting on the bed. He had to let Sam know the truth about who he was, about _what_ he was.

"What is it?" Sam questioned, gaze landing on Dean briefly before going back to the window he was working on and cursing as the salt began to run low, "Damn… hold that thought until I get another bag..."

"I'll get it." Dean sighed, laying the shotgun on the covers and pushing himself up and towards the door, swiping the keys from the table in the process, "You finish up there."

"You sure you're up to it Mr Boss?"

"I need the fresh air." He raised an amused eyebrow at Sam before opening the door and stepping outside. In truth, he was glad for the escape, glad that it seemed as if some higher power had been telling him that it wasn't the best time to let Sam in on the little secret. And as soon as the door was closed behind him, a voice ringing out through the night told him that maybe that's not all the higher powers had to say. It was more gentle than harsh, the soft tones of an angel as oppose to the callous tones of a demon.

"I'm sorry." Jeremiel said solemnly from his position on the Impala's bonnet.

Dean's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he took the angel in, doing his best impersonation of a goldfish as his jaw worked for a second or two but nothing came out at first. The car… the Impala… he was just sitting on it like he owned the damn thing!

"Dude! Seriously!" He motioned towards his baby after a moment, his body catching up with his thoughts, "If you scratch my car then you _will_ be sorry."

Smiling slightly, the angel slid off from the bonnet and moved away, raising his arms as if to say he meant no harm and instead leaning against the car that belonged to the next room over. "I mean it Dean. I didn't expect it to be so soon before Lucifer was found again but with Azazel moving so quickly…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Azazel, you're friendly little demon friend. You should know better than most that demons have and use names too…" Jeremiel answered, eyes following Dean as the eldest Winchester moved towards the Impala's trunk, "He's been planning something for awhile now and I'm guessing you already know it involves people like your brother."

Dean paused his movements, jaw line stiffening as his body became tense and he nodded numbly, "Yeah… I know."

"If he somehow gets his hands on Sam-"

"He'll what? Use him to destroy the world or something like that?" Dean snarked, a growl etched into his undertone, "No, not gonna happen. Sam won't let the demon use him like that."

Jeremiel shook his head and smiled, "No, you're right. It won't happen 'cause he was assigned a guardian angel to stop it from happening, to protect him… no matter what. Even from before the day he was born."

That made Dean laugh, a loud chuckle that he was sure might cause a few curtain twitches. "Fat lot of good they've been. Mom, Jess…" He swallowed hard, emotion clogging his throat and making it hard to speak, "Dad…"

"You're being pretty hard on yourself there, ain't ya?" The angel carried on without missing a beat.

"I'm being ha- what?"

"Jesus, damn fallen angels… you have to spell everything out to them. You, Lucifer, Dean… whatever… you're the guardian."

"I'm the… wait! And when exactly did I get a say in the matter?" He choked out, dragging the salt out from the trunk and bringing the lid down closed, his eyes never leaving the angel who watched him carefully in return.

"You _don't_ want it to be you?"

"That's not what I said." He grumbled in reply and turned away, heading back towards the room with the salt. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do it anymore. "I just…"

"I get it. I understand. You put so little faith in yourself that you don't think you're up to the task but the big guy sees something in you, otherwise he wouldn't have dreamed up this whole thing to begin with."

"And you're forgetting about the whole attempt to end the world? Yeah, I can see how something small like that would slip his mind…"

"But you didn't succeed. You showed who you truly were when we made that deal… This isn't anything new for you. He's not asking you to do anything different, he just wants you to keep doing what you are doing… keep protecting him and keeping him on track. Just keep being Dean."

"Well I guess we'll find out just how easy that is with _him_ locked up inside of me." Dean bit out, stopping when he reached the door and swinging to glare at the angel… the angel who had been nothing but an angel, not knowing how hard it was to forgive yourself; not knowing how easy it was to get hurt or angry.

"I told you before that you're a good man Dean Winchester; and I told you that only _you_ can change the choice that you made."

"Yeah, yeah…" He muttered in reply, rolling his eyes and glancing away momentarily though when his gaze returned to the empty spot that once held Jeremiel he cursed. What was it with angels and just disappearing? They never heard of saying good bye or did they just not believe in it?

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the task at hand, letting his mask drop down on his face once again. He couldn't let Sam see, couldn't let Sam know. He opened the door and shuffled into the room, calling out as he did so, "Honey, I'm home."

"Was beginning to worry you'd gotten lost out there Dean." Sam sighed, finishing up with his current bag of salt and crossing the room to take Dean's from him. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting Dean's and Dean could see the frown clearly playing at the edges of his features, "You okay Dean?"

He feigned a smile, "Course I am lil' brother."

"You'd tell me if you weren't though? Right?"

_No. Not if I can keep you from getting hurt by the truth._ Dean hitched his lip at the side, eyes falling blank as he closed the door behind him and dropped onto the bed, movements and posture appearing casual even though each was calculated and careful. "You know I would Sammy."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	6. And when it all goes to Hell…

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reading this. It really does mean so much to me. Sorry about the delay in updating - been hit by assignment after assignment after damn assignment. Hell ain't got nothing on tutors... there's a thought, maybe I should slip in a bit of holy water into one of their cups, see what happens.... whisper Christo as I walk past... I dread to think of what would happen. Hope you like!!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And when it all goes to Hell…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He watched as Sam finished with the salt before lying back on the bed, making sure to shift the shotgun before it could dig painfully into his back. Closing his eyes, he just listened, thinking about everything from the lack of pain in his body to the fallen halo that hung around his neck instead of sitting above his head and wondering what it had to do with the yellow eyed demon and his plans for Sam.

His brother was shuffling about, it was the main noise that caught Dean's attention, piquing his curiosity but not enough for him to open his eyes or truly take notice of what his brother was doing. No, that came when he heard the slow hissing noise from just up in front of him and he prised his left eye open to question his brother. The same brother that currently stood on one of the chairs, that belonged under the table, and was holding up a spray can to the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" He asked dubiously as he opened the other eyes, both hazel orbs tracing what looked like the beginnings of a devil's trap.

"Precautions. You never know what's gonna happen." The youngest answered distractedly, keeping his attention mainly focused on the task at hand. One wrong symbol and it could mean serious trouble.

"They're not getting into the room Sam."

"Unless we let them in."

Frowning and pushing himself up on the bed, Dean eyed his brother unable to keep from shaking his head. He must have misheard. And yet he knew he hadn't and he especially hadn't misheard the tone in his brother's voice that suggested he had a plan. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"They have information, we need information. And it would give us a chance to try out this ritual, give it a quick trial run before going in search of the demon."

"And what if it's ole yellow eyes himself who turns up to finish what he started?" Dean groaned at the thought, not particularly liking the idea of Sam finding out what the demon now knew. "Somehow I don't think your suicidal plan will work quite as well then."

Sam seemed to stiffen, his eyes falling on Dean as his hand paused in its actions. He looked almost suspicious, as if something had suddenly dawned on him and Dean tilted his head to the side as he watched his brother, a dry laugh escaping his lips as he slowly realised what it was that was running through his brother's mind.

"I'm not possessed Sammy." He smiled, shaking his head and relaxing on the bed once more, "Jeez, you start talking smart and all of a sudden everyone thinks your possessed. If that's the case, I should have you checked ages ago college boy."

"You sure about that?" Sam growled out, his tone serious and eyes still narrowed but his posture seemed to loose a bit of the tension it had held moments ago, "I mean the demon in the bathroom after all - how can I be sure?"

"Finish up that devil's trap and I'll pass right through it." _I hope_. Sure, he'd walked through the traps in the past but he'd never really considered trying it since Lucifer had awoken. He'd be screwed if Sam actually agreed and he couldn't get out the trap though, Sam would be chanting off Latin before he even had the chance to explain.

"And then have to listen to you bitch all night about how I made my poor injured brother actually get off his lazy ass. No thanks Dean."

"Hey! I resent that remark." He pouted in return, eyes watching as Sam shook his head and went back to work on the trap. _Oh, thank God… _"I prefer 'motivationally challenged' anyway, much more PC."

But the playful teasing didn't settle his mind. The yellow eyed demon was out there, probably watching them and waiting to make a move. And now he had a serious hold over Dean, now he knew the truth and that wasn't good, that couldn't be good in the slightest. His chest tightened and his eyes landed on the door, mind distant as his mouth voiced his thoughts before he could think to stop it. "We need to leave town."

"And go where Dean?" Sam asked incredulously, stepping off the chair, his eyes never leaving Dean.

"I don't know! But we can't stay here…" It was crazy to stay there, it was beyond crazy.

"We _need_ to make a stand and we _need_ to kill him once and for all, if we start running then it won't stop. And since when did the almighty Dean Winchester turn into a coward who runs away at the first time of trouble?"

On some level, he knew Sam was right. It was Sam after all and the kid generally spoke sense but when it came to the demon, it was too personal for Sam to see clearly. Sam was so determined to kill the thing, just like their Dad was, and sure Dean wanted to see it dead, he just preferred to do it with as little collateral damage as possible.

But Sam didn't understand. He couldn't understand.

"You're not the one he tried to possess." He grumbled under his breath, slouching further down on the bed. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, hadn't meant for Sam to hear, so he couldn't help but cringe internally when he heard Sam suddenly still and felt his young brother's eyes on him.

"What did you just say?"

"I think we should leave town?" He lifted his eyes to Sam, trying to play innocent but knowing that it was useless because Sam had heard him perfectly. It was too late to take it back now and Sam was going to want to know _all_ the gory details - such as the little fact that somehow the demon _hadn't_ managed to possess him. _Wish I'd kept my big mouth shut._

"You damn well know that's not what I meant!" Sam ground out, taking a step forwards towards the bed so he was looming over his brother. And damn if that wasn't just the least bit intimidating.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, maybe even start to explain but a short rapping at the door interrupted him, stopped him before the words could even come, making him forget what he was going to say in the first place. He would have praised God for the escape if he didn't have the sinking feeling that it would be a demon on the other side.

He saw Sam stiffen and pushed himself up, turning his attention towards the door as his hand snaked over to grab the shotgun. "You expecting anyone?"

"Yeah…" Sam replied; his voice tense as he moved towards one of the duffels to exchange his paint can for a more appropriate weapon, "Trouble."

Exchanging cautious glances, Dean moved to the other side of the room beyond the devil's trap as Sam moved towards the door, a silent understanding falling between them. Dean's grip tightened on the shotgun as he watched, Sam reaching out for the handle whilst keeping his gun hidden just in case for once in their life, it wasn't the darkness that had come a knocking.

"Ready?" Sam questioned, turning back momentarily to shoot Dean a look.

He nodded, flexing his fingers, "Ready."

It was a lie. He wasn't really ready. How could you be ready when you didn't even really know what would be on the other side of the door? But he was as ready as he was ever going to be and that was all that mattered at that moment in time.

Sam pulled at the door, tugging it open, his hand already moving to point the gun at the person who stood there but falling still almost immediately. Dean shuffled to see better, spying a young lad with dark hair standing in an orange uniform and holding a box out in front of him, a label on his shirt indicating he worked for the pizza parlour in town.

"That'll be nine ninety five." His face and tone was bored, a small yawn escaping from his lips as he waited for the brothers to respond.

"I'm sorry…. what?" It seemed to be the only words that came to Sam's mind as he stood there confused and taken aback, turning on the spot to stare wide eyed at Dean.

"Look kid, we didn't order any pizza." Dean explained, walking over towards the door but making sure to stay behind the salt line. His voice showed his aggravation at being spooked by some teenaged pizza deliverer turning up at the wrong door, his hand already reaching out to push the door closed.

"Come on Mister. Seriously?" The kid groaned, taking on a pleading tone though his eyes glinted mischievously as they landed on Dean, "I hear they call this one Satan's last meal."

His fingertips dug into the wooden edge of the door, the hidden message behind the words clear to him but he wasn't about to show how much they got to him, wasn't about to let Sam see. "And I hear they call things like you 'screwed'."

His aim was to move too fast for the demon to react, reaching out and grabbing the front of the possessed kid's shirt as his foot scuffed the salt line, breaking it just enough so the demon could come tumbling into the room and towards Dean. Well, preferably towards the devil's trap but as Dean fell backwards into the trap himself, it was inevitable that the kid would fall with him, what with Dean refusing to release the lock he had on his shirt.

Sam caught on quickly what was happening, the door already closed and salt line fixed and unbroken again by the time Dean had managed to scramble out from underneath the demon and away from the devil's trap.

_That was stupid. That was incredibly stupid._ Dean berated himself but still he plastered a triumphant grin on his face as he pushed himself up and dusted his clothes off, turning to receive a glare from Sam. It was the type of glare that said 'we'll talk about this later, maybe after I've killed you, resurrected you and killed you again'. But it worked. The demon was in the trap, just where Sam had wanted it to be.

"What are you doing here?" Dean demanded, his attention returning to the demon as he pretended he didn't see the annoyance in Sam's eyes. He had a pretty good idea why the demon was there but deep down inside he hoped he was wrong.

"Finishing what he started." The demon answered, standing up inside the trap and raising his eyes to the ceiling with slight amusement.

Dean shook his head and inched closer to the very edge of the trap. Why did demons have to act so smart? "And what's _he_ doing here? What does he want with my brother?"

Crossing his arms and hitching his lip up into a sadistic smirk, the demon looked at both brothers, his gaze finally settling on Dean with what seemed like a hint of curiosity. "You'll have to ask him that."

"Oh believe me, I intend to."

Turning away from the demon, he grabbed the book from the table and flicked through the pages until he found their new Latin ritual. It looked like Sam was going to get his wish after all. He thrust the book into his brother's hand, raising his eyebrow and cocking his head gently to the side, his actions speaking louder than words and Sam swallowed hard.

He watched as his brother placed his finger under the text and read it out loud, fluent and effortless. But that was Sam all over, always the book smart one. Dean was good with the guns; Sam was good with the Latin. The demon laughed at first but as soon as the laughter turned to painful groans, Dean wandered over to the window to peer outside. He didn't need to see, he'd seen it plenty of times before. Sure, this ritual was supposed to be different but he had his doubts.

"Dean…" Sam muttered, breaking from the Latin only moment's later and drawing Dean's attention away from the empty parking lot.

Dean's gaze flickered down to the man curled up into a tight ball on the floor, roaming over the deep gashes that had formed on his skin and the thick black veins that seemed to pulse and throb. Something wasn't right… the demon was dying, as he called out in agony, Dean was sure of that much. The problem was, he was taking the poor kid with him.

Sam was shaking his head, his fingers already making to close the book. "Jesus Christ Dean…"

"Wha- what's the ma-tter?" The demon hacked, mocking them as blood spilled over the possessed man's lips.

Nothing could ever just be simple. The Winchester curse.

"We can't do this Dean…" Sam muttered and Dean nodded in reply. This was screwed up, so unbelievably screwed up.

It was only a few seconds before Sam broke the silence that had fallen between them but it felt like an eternity. A deadly awkward silence where neither brother wanted to be the one to choose the new course of action, both hoping the other would step up to the plate. Dean was glad it was Sam that stepped up, thankful it was Sam that made the decision that their plan wasn't going to work, sure they had found the yellow-eyed demon but they couldn't kill him… back to square one it was then.

"Looks like we're leaving town after all."

"Looks like it." Dean sighed, turning away from the man in front of him and closing his eyes as he listened to Sam close the book fully and instead adopt a new ritual, or more accurately an older more familiar ritual. It wasn't long before the demon had been evicted from its host but the kid lay still, unconscious and unaware of the world around him.

Hospital. That was top of Dean's list. They'd pack their bags and drop the kid off at the hospital on their way out of town. A speedy exit. It was probably for the best - hell, scratch that - it _was_ for the best, no probably about it. He'd prefer to be anywhere that the yellow-eyed demon wasn't, even if it meant catching the first space shuttle off to Pluto but right now, he'd settle for being back at Bobby's - safe ground, that's just what they needed.

"You think he'll be okay?" Sam's voice broke into his thoughts and he looked towards Sam, his brother's gentle eyes full of worry and fear for the kid who was probably barely even five years younger than him. He could see a flash of guilt there too, the kind that didn't belong in his brother's young eyes. It wasn't his fault the kid got hurt, if anyone was going to take the blame, it would be Dean; he was the one who had thrust the book into Sam's hands and practically ordered him to read from it.

"Yeah." He lied, averting his gaze and instead moving towards his duffle. There wasn't much to pack, what with them barely even being there one whole day, but there were a few bits and pieces about the room that he quickly stuffed into it before moving off towards the door.

The truth was; he didn't think the kid would be okay. Apart from waking up with a terrible headache and lacerations to his arms and God knows where else that Dean couldn't even see, there was gonna be the fact that he'd had a demon inside him… how could anyone be okay after something like that? How could they pretend it never happened? How could they go on lying to their brother?

Okay, so maybe he was projecting a little but still, it was the truth.

"And what about the demon?" Sam asked, halfway through gathering up his own possessions and stopping Dean from reaching out to the door handle, "What do we do about him?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it…" _Then we'll burn it so he can't follow us._

Still watching Sam, his fingers wrapped around the handle, pulling the door open and revealing the outside world. Though as Sam's face dropped, mouth already working to voice a warning, Dean figured that it wasn't the only thing it revealed. He didn't want to turn around, he didn't want to see what was so threatening, but for some reason his body wasn't listening to what he didn't want and he found himself turning to face the grinning man before him.

That is, the grinning man who was currently pointing a gun at Dean's forehead. But as he swallowed hard, eyes tracing the curves of the gun and the words carved into it, he realised it wasn't just any gun, not just any colt. It was the colt he'd used to shoot the man in the alley way back when, the colt Sam had used to shoot their Dad in the leg when he was possessed… the colt that their father had traded, along with his soul, to the very demon that had killed Mary in order to save Dean's life.

A various assortment of words popped up into Dean's head at that moment, all at the same time - none of them particularly nice but they all carried the same sentiment.

_Oh sh-_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	7. As your castles crumble slowly…

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Sorry for the delay folks! But here's the latest chapter. Hope I didn't leave you hanging too long. I know it's not as long as previous chapters but it felt like the right place to end for the next chapter to progress from gently. Thank you so much for the awesome reviews and for reading in the first place - it means so much to me.

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As your castles crumble slowly…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean was hiding something; that much Sam was sure of. He was… off. He had been for the past few weeks at least and now this run in with the yellow eyed demon, it left Sam wondering if there was more to it then Dean was letting on.

Sam's fingers closed around the book in his hands as his eyes wandered over to the boy still lying in the devil's trap. The blood on his arms seemed to stand out even more than before and Sam felt his guts twist. Guilt. That was what was coursing through his veins. Thick venomous guilt.

It had been his idea to try the ritual if any demons came a-knocking and a-knocking they came. But he hadn't expected that. He hadn't thought the ritual would have an affect like that. If he had known, if he had imagined…

"And what about the demon?" He asked as he threw the book into a bag and grabbed one of his shirts from the seat where it had been slung, "What do we do about him?"

He looked up, his eyes focusing on Dean as his brother seemed to consider the question for a moment. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it…"

_Great, perfect answer_. Sam sighed, fighting the urge to snap at Dean for not really answering his question but when Dean tugged the door open, he felt his blood run cold as his mind instead focused on the demon on the other side.

His eyes fells on the gun, the oh so familiar gun, held tight in the demon's grip. His mouth was already opening as his brother's name scorched at his throat, desperate for escape, desperate to warn him. And as Dean turned to face his assassin, Sam was sure it was too late, his heart not knowing whether to plummet or keep racing at its painful pace.

The demon smirked, black eyes glinting with pure hate as they stared into Dean and Sam felt more helpless in that moment than ever before.

The thing that surprised him though was the sudden rush of black smoke that pushed past the demon with such a force that it sent him flying backwards, gun unfired. And the smoke continued forward, salt line scattering as it forced Dean back into the room, causing him to stumble and fall as the door slammed closed behind the thick smoke.

All in the blink of an eye. So fast that it took Sam a moment to comprehend what had happened and even then his first priority was his brother.

"Dean!" He called out, pushing forwards and dropping down beside Dean. Only after having received a grunt in reply did Sam turn his attention back to the smoke.

The stuff stayed low as it seemed to stalk back and forth in front of the door, almost in the shape of a large wolf. A flash of red looked his way but then returned to stare at the door. On instinct, the Latin spell poured from his lips and the smoke flinched as if in pain, a growl of protest reaching his ears.

The words stopped though as his brother's hand wrapped around his arm, his eyes turned on Sam asking him to stop. He couldn't explain why he obeyed - there was a demon right there in the room with them and his brother had lost his mind, practically telling him not to send the damn thing back to Hell… and still after everything, Sam listened.

"Dean…" He started in a low voice as he watched his brother carefully, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Pushing himself up from the floor, he looked down at Sam and held his arm out to offer him a hand up. Silently, Sam took it, his hardened gaze still focused on Dean. He wasn't going to quit, he wasn't going to drop it this time. Dean didn't need to be 'gifted' to know that.

"Well?" Sam prodded as Dean took a seat at the edge of his bed and Sam dragged one of the chairs forward from the table so he could sit directly in front of his brother.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Dean sighed, looking down into his hands for a moment. The adrenaline was causing them to shake even though he tried to calm his body down, but his mind just kept going back to the damn colt and how if Ripper had left it just one more second, he could have been dead.

Ripper. Jesus, he couldn't imagine how the hellhound had even been able to find him or why he'd turned up in the first place but he was thankful. He wouldn't have been surprised though if the hellhound had been keeping watch on him. A guardian hellhound, the thought was laughable.

"There's a demon sitting at our front door and there's another waiting outside with _the_ colt. The colt Dean! And he was aiming at you!"

"What do you want me to say Sammy? Yes, it was the colt and yes, he was aiming at me…"

"I want the truth Dean. All of it. You've been hiding something for awhile now so I think it's time to spill. Why the hell was he trying to kill you with the colt?" Sam's eyes were practically ablaze, he looked like he was finding it hard to stay as calm as he was. Even the hellhound had frozen, studying him carefully as if deciding whether or not he was going to be a threat.

"_Sa-am_." He pleaded, looking up and into Sam's eyes, begging him to understand. "Don't make me say it. Don't make me…"

"Say what?" Sam continued pushing with the patience of a five year old in a candy shop.

He took a breath, glancing towards Ripper and the door before answering. "They think I'm the king of the underworld, they think I'm the Devil himself and now they want to freaking hunt me down with the damn colt."

_That shut him up._ He couldn't help but think as Sam seemed suddenly lost for words. It didn't last long. The silence that had fallen between them was broken by a disbelieving snort from Sam as the youngest smiled dryly.

"That's crazy. Why would they even think that?"

"Because it's true."

And it did sound crazy. It sounded absolutely nuts but the memories from before were still too clear, too fresh. He saw Sam shake his head, raising one of his eyebrows dubiously. But Dean's face remained solemn, serious. Sam was struggling not to laugh and maybe, once over, Dean could have joined him. Hell, he wished he _could_ join him.

But when Dean didn't crack, when he didn't reveal that he was joking, he saw Sam swallow hard, his skin visibly paling as he frowned, not wanting to believe.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Deadly."

"Dean… that's just crazy. Have you heard yourself? We're talking Satan here. The ultimate evil. I mean, come on… Satan… he's wiped out civilisations without even thinking about it, women, children. You, you get broody whenever you can't save a life."

"I do not brood!"

"And you don't go around killing people left, right and centre either!"

"I told you Sam."

"What Dean, what did you tell me?" The frustration was evident in Sam's tone, the anger and confusion fighting against each other in his hazel eyes. Dean could tell it took him all he had to remain seated rather than jump up and wear a whole in the floor by pacing back and forth across the carpet.

"I told you that you wouldn't believe me." And if he was truthful, he had to admit that it was slightly comforting knowing that your brother wasn't so willing to believe that you could possibly be the Devil. On the other hand, he wasn't looking forward to explaining exactly what had happened.

"How can I?" Sam all but shouted, "You just told me that you're Satan! What do you expect from me? My brother… you… how can you even _think_ that?"

"Two months ago…" He started, placing his hands on the edge of the bed at either side to keep from fidgeting as he swallowed the thickening lump in his throat. Jesus, why had he waited so long to tell him? How was he supposed to explain why he had even kept it a secret? "You remember the black out? I think that was Jeremiel, I think he had something to do with it."

"Jeremiel? Dean… I don't understand."

"Well if you shut your trap for five minutes I'll explain it to you." He snapped; waiting for a beat as Sam nodded. A silent agreement saying that he'd hold all his questions until the end; and Dean knew there'd be a fair few of them.

"Two months ago, we ran into a hellhound…" He nodded his head towards Ripper, "_That _hellhound. Only you don't remember 'cause everything kinda slid downhill from there and Jeremiel had to, I dunno, hit the reset button or something. I screwed up Sammy. I screwed up big time."

"Dean…"

It was soft, understanding and that thought made Dean laugh dryly. How could Sam understand? He was barely able to comprehend it himself and he could still _feel_ Lucifer inside him and oh God, he was afraid now more than ever that Lucifer would get out once again.

He cleared his throat, forcing back the stinging tears as he remembered what he had done. He could still hear Becky begging and pleading, could still see the pain and hate in that damn hunter's eyes. He got off easy; he got off far too easy. His eyes wandered back to Sam as he remembered seeing him lying still and broken, he could feel his heart tearing all over again and it scared the hell out of him as he forced himself to remember who he really was.

"I completely lost myself Sam. I let him consume me and destroy me… and I would have taken the world with me if Jeremiel hadn't stepped in. A Goddamn angel, who knew they really existed, huh? I mean you, you always had faith. Maybe that's why he used you to reach me."

"So you're saying that what, 'the devil inside you' took over?" Sam asked gently, brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of Dean's words, hands curled into fists as he couldn't quite manage it.

"_Lucifer_ made a deal with God. He was given a chance to start over fresh and he was, he was reborn as a human… as me."

Saying it out loud just felt weird, it made him feel dizzy, his body tingling as the light sensation spread throughout him. Sure he'd thought it plenty of times, or at least thought along those lines. But that was the trouble with thoughts, they got jumbled, distracted, and in the end they felt just that little less real, that little less tangible. Whereas when it was said out loud, well, it felt like he was standing up at an AA meeting and admitting for the first time that he was an alcoholic.

"So let me get this straight… '_Lucifer'_ the Devil made a deal - with God - to be human? So he was sent to earth as you? And somehow you lived for 28 years without knowing this, then we met Mr Smokey Hellhound over there and Lucifer came out to play? Am I right so far?" Sam questioned; the urge to pace finally too great as he pushed himself up and managed two strides before stopping to look back at Dean.

"Pretty much…"

"So then what? Lucifer decide to end the world or something? See, I just can't see that… you would _never_ do that."

"It's a little more complicated than that Sammy." Dean answered, scrubbing his palm across his bottom lip for a moment before meeting his brother's eyes.

"How? What reason could you possibly have that would let you do that?"

Now that question was a minefield and it made Dean pause and swallow hard as he focused on the now, pushing away the image of a broken Sam. "I thought you were dead." He said finally, the words pouring over his lips with bitterness and anger. Taking a breath, he shook his head, his voice becoming softer as he continued, "I though you were dead and it hurt so damn much that I didn't want to feel anymore… but I wanted to make sure that everyone else knew how painful it was first."

Sam didn't reply at first, his eyes just wandered towards the ground as he took in the piece of fragile information, holding onto it like it was a butterfly he was afraid to crush. "And that was when Jere-" He started as he looked back towards Dean, pausing on the name as he seemed to struggle more to wrap his tongue around it than he had the first time.

"Jeremiel." Dean offered quickly as he nodded in agreement to what Sam was saying, knowing where he was headed before Sam even got there.

"-Jeremiel stepped in…"

"I know how this sounds Sam. Believe me, I know. But we've been through this all before."

"Dean, let's just say that Lucifer does exist… that he was reincarnated as a human or whatever. Why you? Why would he be inside you?"

"Well he's not so much inside me as he is a part of me." It was hard to explain. He knew that on some level he and Lucifer were separate but at the very base of things, they were intertwined, connected and there was no breaking the connection. If it were just as simple matter of the fallen angel being inside of him literally speaking, then it would just be a matter of finding some way of getting him out rather than locking him up.

Sam swallowed; the knowledge going down like a bad tasting Indian meal but by the look in his eyes, the sad resignation, Dean could tell he finally understood. "Is that why the demon couldn't possess you?"

"I guess Lucy doesn't want his meat-suit being used by anyone but him." Dean shrugged, pushing himself up from the bed and snatching up the bag he had dropped from the floor. He glanced towards Ripper and then to the door. Sooner or later they were going to have to leave the room; they could only stay there for so long before the demons found a way in. It was only a matter of time.

"There's a demon out there will the colt Dean." Sam said harshly, stepping in front of him and blocking his way, "They'll be waiting for us… for you."

"We can't stay here. We need to get to some place safer - I dunno, maybe hide out at Bobby's until we figure something out. But this, this ain't safe Sam."

"You walk out that door and its suicide!"

Ripper seemed to agree as he stood his ground, his smoky essence seeming to spread as his eyes gleamed dangerously. The dog telling the master what to do, it was a small piece of irony that had Dean raising his eyebrow at the hound before turning back to Sam and letting out an impatient huff.

"So what do you suggest we do? Stay here until the end of time?"

"You have a hellhound apparently." Sam started, his voice an almost whine as he swung his hand in the direction of Ripper, his eyes remaining firmly on Dean, "So why don't you use it?"

"It's not as easy as that Sam…" He rolled his eyes in reply. But Ripper shifted, his essence disappearing under the crack in the door. "Okay… maybe it is that easy…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	8. Eyes on Fire

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Firstly - apologies. Sorry for the long looong delay. RL has been getting in the way of fanfiction a lot. Illness, computer problems, endless streams of coursework and not to mention the fandom getting me down. Where's the love people? So many people being so hard on our beloved show and the amazing writers that are part of it that it makes a girl wonder. Anyway, I'm trying not to go on the forums as much because of all the negativity. I've also been working on an original story on the side (first draft of which is nearly finished, thank God).

And now, thank you's. Thank you for reading, for your patience and for your reviews. It really does mean so much to me and it's so encouraging, if it wasn't for you guys then this story would probably have remained unwritten. Anyway, here we go, the next chapter. Again, it's shorter than what I wanted it to be... probably the shortest so far but I hope you enjoy.

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Eyes on Fire

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The hellhound didn't take long on its mini scout mission, the thick black essence filtering back into the room and settling once more in front of the door as it gazed up at its master. The lack of tension rippling throughout its entire being indicated to Dean that they were in luck – the parking lot was currently a demon free zone. But he knew it wouldn't last. Without a doubt, he imagined the demon to be reporting its failed attempt at killing him to that yellow eyed son of bitch.

They didn't have time to waste.

Tightening his grip on his duffel, he turned toward Sam, determination shining brightly in his eyes. The youngest Winchester let go of an irritated huff, his eyes rolling as he fought back the urge to voice how bad an idea it would be to just waltz outside without any protection. But in all fairness, Dean knew it was a bad idea. It was a stupendously idiotic idea but that didn't change the fact that they had to do it and sitting around waiting for the demons to come back would just make things worse.

Without saying another word, he pulled his keys from his pocket and made his way to the window to pull back the curtains for one last check before opening the door and striding towards the black beast that was the Impala. He threw the duffel into the trunk unceremoniously and opened the back passenger door ready for the injured kid that was still lying unconscious on the motel room floor – though he didn't fail to notice how Ripper took the opportunity to slide onto the backseat first.

He met Sam at the doorway and the youngest opened his mouth to speak but shut it again almost immediately. Dean could hardly be surprised that he didn't know what to say after the heaping pile of information he'd just had given to him. He was thankful though. Sam could have taken it a lot worse…

Sam's eyes darted south, gaze wandering away from Dean in unease and he shifted but Dean didn't take offence, instead he grabbed Sam's duffel from his hand and headed back towards the car. They could talk about how royally screwed they were when they were merrily on their way, right now though they needed to move… and quickly. The duffel was dropped in beside his own and he let the trunk fall closed, moving once again back towards the motel room to help Sam with the kid.

"There's a hospital in the next town over." He said conversationally, more to break the empty silence than anything. "It's on the way so it won't slow us down."

"Dean…" It was more than just a word, more than just a name… it was a plea – one that usually accompanied a speech about how Sam wanted to 'understand' and 'help' or other chick flick things that, he just didn't seem to get, they could talk about on the road… when they were moving, putting as much distance between them and the yellow eyed demon as possible.

"Sa-am…" He countered, head lowered and eyes raised so they met his brother's, gaze heavy and demanding, his more a warning than a plea. And Sam relented, though Dean could tell that as soon as the opportunity to talk rose once more then Sam would take it without a second thought.

With Sam taking the kid's torso and Dean taking the legs, they loaded him onto the back seat and climbed into the front so they could tear out of there as quickly as possible.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Bobby had grown suspicious about the old truck watching the place as soon as the boys had left. He knew instantly that it was Harry. The damn drunk was growing paranoid… following people about, watching them… and it made Bobby uneasy to say the least. If he didn't know any better, he suspected that the old guy was waiting for the boys to come back and he didn't like it one bit. Those boys were family to him so the idea of some crazy old hunter following them made his blood run cold.

He couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was about Harry's presence that made him squirm so much but he could feel that the outcome would be bad. Hunters didn't follow people for no reason. Hunters didn't have stake outs for no reason. And sure, Harry was technically retired but that didn't make things any better. You can take the hunter out of the hunt, but you can't take the hunt out of the hunter. And throw in a little bit of drink and you've got yourself a loose cannon… a dangerous loose cannon that's ready to blow at anytime.

And that was exactly why he tried his damn best to handle with care when the old guy came a knocking… or more correctly, a barging into his house uninvited. They ended up in the kitchen, each seated at either end of the small table – Harry's gun sitting neatly beside him, hand and finger ready and resting in place just in case Bobby decided to do something stupid.

"Where are they?" The guy asked for the umpteenth time.

"I already told ya." Bobby growled out, keeping his eyes focused on Harry's, refusing to let them stray to the gun. "I. Don't. Know."

"Oh come on Singer, d'ya think I'm really that stupid? Everybody knows just how damn close you and the Winchesters are. So where are they Singer? What were they doing here?"

"Like you say – we're pretty damn close. They were just dropping by on their way to a hunt, nothing special really."

"You must think I'm an idiot."

"No Harry, I think you're a drunk."

Harry flinched, a snarl passing over his features as his finger coiled a little tighter around the trigger and for a brief moment Bobby thought he was actually going to shoot.

"Why are you so interested in the Winchesters, Harry?" He asked when the shot failed to come, his gaze narrowed as he allowed himself to look the old hunter up and down before making eye contact once more.

"He's got you fooled good and proper, ain't he?"

"You're drunk Harry… I can smell it on ya. You're paranoid and you're drunk. Whatever it is you think you may have seen, it's a side effect from all that damn alcohol you've been supping."

Harry tightened at his words, shaking his head in response. "You're wrong. You're wrong about me and you're wrong about him. He's one of _them_. He needs to be seen to just like we'd see to one of them… And if no one else will do it, then it's up to me to tak' care of it." The old guy shifted, his spare hand sliding into his pocket before coming up to rest on the table, fingers playing with what Bobby could only presume was some kind of charm.

He didn't have a plan for disarming Harry, per se, but whatever thoughts and ideas he did have were sent scattering when he heard the rumble of that old familiar '67. Resisting the urge to close his eyes, he opened his mouth to distract Harry, frustration running through him at the thought of the boys walking in and being caught unawares. But it was too late – Harry had already noticed, a small smile was tugging at his lips, his eyes falling to the side as he seemed to be listening more closely and subconsciously, Bobby found himself listening that little bit harder too.

Had he taught those boys nothing? Or were they just so thick-headed that they refused to acknowledge that they weren't invincible and that one day, things wouldn't work out the way they wanted them to? He heard the front door open slowly, heard the light footsteps that might have gone unnoticed if it hadn't been for both he and Harry holding their breaths. It didn't take them long to peer into the kitchen, guns raised and ready to aim.

But Harry was just as ready, his gun off the table and pointed toward the doorway just in time for them to come into view. His eyes locked on the brothers and he pushed himself up from the seat, charm going back into his pocket so he could use that hand as a support for the gun.

The guy didn't stand a chance. First rule… or maybe it was the fourth, either way, it was a cold hard rule – never turn your back on a hunter, especially one that's crazy protective of the people you're currently pointing a gun at. And well, Bobby definitely was no damsel in distress and he knew how to use a distraction when he had one.

Picking up the heaviest item at hand, he stood up so quickly that the chair fell away but by the time Harry realised what was about to happen, it was too late and he joined the chair on the floor, out for the count.

"Well you boys have the finesse of a damn bull in a china shop." He ground out as he stood over the drunk hunter's body, eying the boys up as he shook his head. After placing the pot back on the table, he used one hand to remove his cap and the other to scruffle his hair before the worn cap was replaced. "What the hell you doing back?"

"We ran into trouble." Sam answered quietly, his gaze lifting up from the unconscious man to meet Bobby's intense scrutiny. "What's he doing here?"

"Cracking up, that's what he's doing. He came asking about you both… asking where you were, what you were doing. Seeing demons everywhere." He barely caught the glance that Sam threw Dean, the raised eyebrow look that always meant he was conveying some kind of message that only the pair would understand. And Dean, he tried to look innocent… but it wasn't working, Dean trying to look innocent never worked. "What's going on?" He demanded, arms crossing over his chest as he waited for answers.

"Jesus…" Dean mumbled, taking a deep breath, his face falling into the picture of frustration as he muttered under his breath incoherently. But then the frustration vanished to be replaced by guarded eyes as he grinned broadly instead, that cocksure smile of his that normally meant trouble.

"Please allow me to introduce myself," He started, the grin fading momentarily as he frowned and looked towards Sam, a pout on his lips, "You know, I can't believe the Stone got it wrong… Wealth? Dude, we've barely got enough cash to give my baby a full tank."

"Dean!" Bobby snapped, hoping to regain the eldest Winchester's attention. "Care to elaborate? Or should I wait around and let Harry wake up to carry on with what he started?"

"Grouchy." It was barely above a whisper but Bobby heard it perfectly, just as Dean could hear the intent loud and clear as Bobby let go of his breath. He was growing impatient and Dean playing games wasn't helping.

It was Sam who carried on though, his eyes falling closed as he drew in an even longer breath than Dean had, the words flowing from his lips in a rush when he let it go again. "Bobby… Dean seems to think that he's the reincarnation of the Devil."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Dude, no thinking about it - I _know_ I'm the freaking reincarnation of the Devil." Dean's voice was a low growl as he stared hard at his brother, all humour gone from his features. The way Sam worded it made him wonder if the youngest truly had believed him… or if he had suddenly just decided that Dean was officially as crazy as the guy lying unconscious on the kitchen floor. His rising anger and disbelief making him forget that it wasn't just them two listening to the conversation, and when he saw the look of pure confusion on Bobby's face he felt his heart plummet.

Here they go again. All they needed was for Ellen to be possessed and tied up out back and they'd have the whole gang back together again… Then Dean could go all schizo on their asses and lead them on a good old goose chase 'cause that worked out so brilliantly the last time.

"I'll go wait in the car." He muttered dejectedly and turned to leave but Bobby's voice made him freeze.

"What the hell do you mean you're the damn reincarnation of the Devil?!"

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean." He sighed, refusing to turn back around for fear of what he would see written on Bobby's face. "It's a long pain in the ass story and I've already told it once so forgive me if I don't feel like going through it all again."

"It's crazy." Sam spoke up beside him and he could feel the youngest's eyes on him. "But some demon tried to kill him with the colt and there's a hellhound waiting in the car that obeys his every command… So I'm thinking he might be right."

"We deal with crazy everyday Sam." Dean reminded him, "And never mind that you _think_ I might be right, you know it. You just don't want to accept it."

"Hold up," Bobby called, his hand wrapping around Dean's upper arm and forcing him to turn so they were face to face. "Are you even listening to yerself? This ain't just crazy boy, this is downright insane…"

"I wish I was crazy Bobby, I wish I was. But I'm not. Call Missouri and she'll tell you. The Devil made a deal with God and I'm the best that he could do."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Thank you so much for reading!


	9. Darker shade of sin

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Yes, I should be studying... or at the very least I should be sleeping. Being that I have an exam first thing tomorrow morning (in approximately 8 hours) and I'm scared sh--- well, you know how the saying goes. But yeah, I'm scared and I needed a distraction so I've been working on this for the past few nights between study sessions. Sorry about the delay guys, university has been Hell. It's been deadlines and exam prep all the way and I can't wait until it's all over in two weeks time.

Thank you all for your patience and for reading! It means a lot to me.

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Darker shade of sin

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Thick black darkness, it surrHounded him like a choking tar, pushing down on him painfully. And every time he moved, a wave of scorching lava was sent coursing through his veins as the words of old flashed across his vision in a blinding light. A cold and angered emptiness spread throughout him, like a vicious poison determined to taint him with an even darker shade of sin.

Locked inside his own mind, trapped inside his own soul, bits and pieces leaked in from the outside world – words and feelings mixed together, combined in a confusing cocktail. And still, he couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten there. The memories of before the darkness were nothing more than fragments, a shattered crystal glass broken and scattered in the confines of a pitch black room, the tiny pieces refusing to fit together. All he knew was that he had to get out.

It was claustrophobic, everything crashing down on him - nonexistent walls closing in on him, threatening to devour him and steal him away to a place where he didn't want to go. He could almost feel himself panicking, could feel his heartbeat speeding up and his chest tightening as his lungs struggled to draw breath. But he forced himself to calm, his eyes flashing like fire as he chose instead to wait. Because as agonising as it was, he knew his time would come. The chains that kept him locked away would crumble soon enough and he would be free.

All he had to do was wait. You couldn't lock the Devil up forever after all - he would always find a way to break out.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Now Dean understood why the drive to Bobby's had been so silent. At first he hadn't really thought much about it and he certainly hadn't tried to amend it, using the time to try and think things through. He hated to admit it, but it was killing him inside, worry taking hold of him and causing every single muscle in his body to tighten. More than anything, he was afraid of history repeating itself. Sure, he'd made his choice, he'd learned from his mistakes – but that didn't change the fact that he had Lucifer locked up inside of him.

Sam must have thought he was crazy. Those furtive glances that he'd sent Dean's way the entire drive, the way his body and mind seemed uneasy, unable to relax… Dean had almost thought that the youngest had been afraid of him. But no, now it seemed as though Sam had been trying to decide between believing his brother and locking him up in some damn insane asylum that specialised in hunters who had completely lost the plot. Hey, maybe he could share a room with good old unconscious Harry – that would be a real barrel of laughs.

Glancing down at the drunken hunter once more, Dean swallowed thickly, his gaze determined not to stray back to Sam and Bobby, not wanting to see the looks that passed across their faces. How could he prove to them that he was telling the truth? He could only hope that they would actually believe him, and in all honestly he really wanted them to… no scratch that, he really needed them to because if they didn't, then that only left two options – Missouri, and there was no real certainty that she would be able to confirm what he was saying, at least not without the third option coming into play… the option that he really wanted to avoid because that one involved Lucifer actually coming out to play and no way, no how, was that a good idea.

He heard Sam breathe in deeply and could practically feel the youngest preparing to speak and he in turn, prepared himself for what he knew would come. Damn, he'd known Sam had taken it too easily. He'd actually expected all this on the drive but no, now it seemed as though Sam had been saving it for a time when he had back up. Great, just what he needed, two on one, always a fair fight.

"Dean, you have to know how this sounds… it's just hard to- it's not exactly easy to take in." That was the first attempt of Sam's to reason with him and Dean doubted it would be the last.

He shook his head, his tongue snaking out to dampen his lips as his eyes met with his brother's. His hand motioned to the unconscious man on the floor and he opened his mouth, imploring Sam to accept the truth. "He saw something in me, back at the Roadhouse. You can't tell me you didn't notice… And then he started following us? And now the demon? Jesus Sam, we don't have time to go through this whole denial part again… Unless we figure something out, we're gonna be end up in way over our heads."

"How about we deal with our friend 'fore he wakes up first and play therapy later, when we know we're not about to get stabbed in the back by a crazed drunken hunter?" It was Bobby who spoke, his voice a low grumble as he narrowed his eyes at Dean. It was a kind of look that said he was trying to figure things out, trying to decide whether Dean had lost it, was possessed or, God forbid, was telling the truth.

Spreading his hands out in front of him, Dean backed away towards the doorway, his words leaving on an exhausted sigh. "I'll get the rope."

As he headed for the Impala, he heard Bobby mutter something about needing a drink and couldn't help but agree wholeheartedly with the thought. Beer, whiskey, hell he'd even take vodka - anything to take away the sting of having to repeat this whole nightmare. He didn't even mind the fact that it would be laced with holy water. So long as it numbed him in just the right places and eased his mind enough to concentrate on the matter at hand, he wouldn't complain.

He gazed in through the rear window of the Impala momentarily as he moved towards the trunk. Ripper was curled up in a mass of black smoke on the back seat, only one tiny slit of red revealed as what looked to be a smoky paw twitched, making it appear as though the hellhound were actually sleeping. Though as Dean slammed the trunk closed once again after grabbing the rope and both startling red eyes became visible again for mere moments, Dean guessed his assumption was right. It was definitely a strange sight, and one he never thought he would ever see, but at the same time he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips as he left the hellhound to it.

Walking back to the house, he already guessed what the topic would be and he didn't even mind overhearing Sam telling Bobby everything that he had told him back in the motel room. He was kinda thankful that it meant he wouldn't have to be the one to repeat everything, once was bad enough. So long as the pair of them didn't try ganging up on him… that he could do without.

They had moved to what had once been the living room but was now just another library extension and Harry was propped up on one of the chairs ready and waiting for the rope, Sam holding his shoulders, reluctantly, to keep him from falling back down to the ground. The pair fell silent as Dean entered the room and Bobby moved forward to greet him with a beer, exchanging the cold bottle for the rope in Dean's hand. One thing Dean had learned over the past two years was that no one tied a better knot than Bobby, not even John.

He watched as the elder hunter made quick work of the ropes, taking in Sam from the corner of his eye. The way Sam gazed determinedly away from him but in such a way that it meant he was still within the youngest's peripheral vision made him feel slightly suspicious. But then again you were always bound to feel a little paranoid after walking into a room to hear the last threads of conversation die, leaving only an empty silence.

Raising the bottle to his lips, he noticed as both Sam and Bobby seemed to hold their breaths. Jesus, they actually expected him to be possessed? Well, he'd sharp show them. Without even hesitating, he downed half the bottle and let go of a satisfied sigh, pulling his brow down into a puzzled expression of innocence as he looked back towards the stunned pair.

He had to admit, they were both pretty quick to recover and from the look in their eyes, he knew that neither of them bought for a single moment that he hadn't known about the holy water.

"So you're not possessed then?" A purely rhetorical question on Bobby's part and Dean shrugged in response, moving towards one of the empty seats so he could sit on the edge. Bobby's eyes followed him all the way, not about to let the subject drop. "You expect us to believe that you're the reincarnation of Lucifer after you just chugged down holy water without even a sign of a blister?"

"First of all, Lucifer isn't a demon - he's a fallen angel." He answered conversationally, as if they were discussing nothing more casual than the weather or the latest scores of whatever game was currently showing on television. "And me… I'm all human."

Off to the side, he saw as Sam swallowed, his head slowly bobbing in a gentle nod and if Dean didn't know any better, he'd say that he was finally getting through to his brother. Raising his eyes to look at Sam's, he held the gaze, pleading silently, needing his brother to relent and just accept the truth.

"But with a little added protection a la Lucifer?" And there it was. There was a resignation to Sam's tone, a deep sadness that said so much more than the words that the youngest had spoken.

"It seems that way."

"Jesus," Bobby breathed out, the curse showing that he didn't know what to think and Dean couldn't blame him. He couldn't blame either of them. The elder hunter scrubbed a hand across his face as he turned away and paced a few steps in thought. "So what the hell's that s'posed to mean?"

"It means I'm a walking target for demons and hunters." He took another sip of his beer as he let his words sink in. He had really hoped for more time. Two months was nowhere near good enough. But it seemed like once the gateway was open then fate was determined to keep it that way. What he hated the most though, was the hunters' part. The demons they could maybe handle but hunters, they were human. And killing humans wasn't in the job description.

Harry shifted slightly in his seat, a small grunt escaping from his throat as he drew the attention of all three. Perfect timing, just the distraction Dean needed – get the attention off of him for a little while. That way he could fade into the background as Bobby and Sam interrogated the old timer – or so he hoped. And it seemed Bobby was eager to start.

Grabbing a metal bucket from beside the fire place, Bobby dunked the contents immediately over the old drunk's head – the reaction was instant. A string of loud curses came flying from Harry's mouth as his head jerked upwards, his clothes soaked with what appearing to be extremely cold water and Dean watched as a satisfied smile slid into place on Bobby's face, the elder hunter moving around the chair so that he stood directly in front of Harry. So the water may have been a bit extreme but Dean guessed it had been Bobby's way of paying the retired hunter back for holding him hostage in his own home.

"Morning Sunshine." Bobby beamed, placing the bucket back on the ground so he could fold his arms across his chest instead as he locked eyes with Harry. "How's ya head?"

"This isn't funny Singer." The hunter spat, struggling against the binds, his body already starting to shiver as the cold set in. "Do you realise what you're doing? We're in danger from a damn demon and you're playing games!"

Bobby shook his head and held his ground, refusing to break eye contact. "What demon?"

And it was then that the old guy's gaze drifted away from Bobby and towards Dean for just the fraction of a second – so short they would have missed it if they hadn't all been watching the guy like hawks, or a pack of ravenous vultures. "_Him_. He's one of them and you just refuse to see it. He's a damn demon!"

"He's no different from you or me; he's a hunter – not a demon. A pain in the ass sure, but he's a good guy."

Harry leaned forward in the seat as for as the ropes would allow him to, his neck stretched out as he looked up at Bobby, jaw tightened, teeth practically grinding together. "I can _see_ him. I can see the fire burning in his eyes and the waves of darkness spilling from his every pore. He's not like us."

"You can't even see past the damn drink running through your system." Bobby's face fell into a picture of disappointment and he moved away, arms falling away from his chest as he kept his eyes from meeting Dean's. He was starting to believe, or at least consider the possibility that Dean was telling the truth – after all, two crazed hunters? Under the same roof? That couldn't be normal, right?

"Oh I see. I've _always_ seen! More than anyone ever knew!" The retired hunter thrashed a little more violently as he shouted after Bobby, his lips pulled into a snarl, teeth bared. "Call it a blessing, call it a curse. I see. And right now, I see _him_!"

Dean felt his throat work, trying to swallow the thick lump that had suddenly formed. He thought he had been ready to accept whatever was thrown at him, after everything he'd been through, he'd thought he could actually handle it. But he wasn't prepared for the deep and hateful venom in Harry's voice. It got to him like a blow to the gut, leaving him almost breathless.

"I swear to God, I'm not what you think I am." He mumbled dejectedly, his eyes falling to the ground, "Whatever it is you're seeing, that's not me. That's something else…"

Harry let go of a hardened laugh, his head swinging to face Dean. The man's eyes were darkened by a hatred that Dean knew only too well, and it stung like hell to feel it directed at him, the intensity of it making him squirm. "You may have fooled them but you can't fool me. I know what you are."

Dean already felt the cocky remark rising up his throat and burning on his tongue, ready to let go – the remark that stated that Harry had no idea what or who he was and that if he did, he wouldn't be feeling so damn confident about himself. But it died on his lips, the first word barely even formed before his blood ran cold and he felt his heart plummet inside his chest as a loud and painful yelp echoed through the air from outside.

He didn't even realise he was moving until he was at the doorway, Bobby's hand wrapped tightly around his upper arm to stop him from going any further. He turned to look at Sam, a pleading look in his eyes but by the hesitation that lined his brother's features, he knew it was hopeless. There was no way Bobby or Sam were going to let him go out there – not when they all knew perfectly well what that yelp had meant.

The demon was outside. And he was waiting.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Thanks for reading!!


	10. I wanna be your new victim

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N:I know I said it shouldn't be long befre I get to update... or at least I'm sure I said something of the sort at some point and I always say it... and yet it always feels like forever before I update. Yeah, sorry about that. You know how real life is, and I really wanted to finally finish my other fic before I moved back onto this one. Anyway, exams are all over and I'm on my summer break now and man oh man, do I have a lot to catch up on. Anyway, I'm really hoping to get back to my creative side this summer and get some major writing done. I've got an original story sitting waiting to be edited and fanfic ideas waiting to be written and this... I have plans for this fic too. So hopefully the muses will play nicely and let me get some work done.

Thank you all so much for reading and for the awesome encouragement, it means so much to me.

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I wanna be your new victim

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It wasn't that it was too fantastical to believe or that it was too much to take in, sure, those little points were true but they weren't the reasons why Sam was finding it so hard to believe Dean's words. No, what made it so difficult was that he didn't want to believe. It was too heavy to comprehend – Dean, as Lucifer? If Sam had to choose any human being on the entire planet that acted most like the reincarnation of Lucifer, he certainly would not choose Dean. But then, according to what Dean was saying that was the whole point.

If Lucifer was being given a second chance, then Dean would be the best type of person to be redeemed. He wasn't perfect, and yes, he had done bad things but he was a good guy and he had that really irritating habit of always putting himself in danger in order to protect others – it drove Sam crazy but if anything was a redeeming quality, surely that would be?

He couldn't deny the way things seemed. And it had all started with the blackout, or at least if he had to pin it down to something, that would be it. That was when Dean slowly started getting more and more distant and now that Sam thought about it, looking back, in the past two months no matter how badly Dean had been injured, the next day he always argued that he was fine. That in itself wasn't the unusual part. No, what was unusual was how it always seemed as if Dean was telling the truth. Sam had just thought he was getting better at hiding it, but if Dean was right then it all fit.

And whatever Harry was seeing, maybe he was being honest…. Maybe what he could somehow see was Lucifer locked up inside of Dean. After all, Dean seemed to think that was the case, the way he shifted briefly each time the old guy glanced his way – so subtle but Sam noticed him every time, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then there was the demon to consider – sure, he had plans for Sam, but Sam highly doubted he was the purpose of that yellow eyed son of a bitches visit. No, he was pretty damn sure that the demon was there for Dean.

The sound of the yelp caused his heart to speed up, chest tightening at the thought of the implication and as soon as he saw Dean moving towards the door, he pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning against to stop him – thankful that Bobby got there first. But the look in his brother's eyes as he turned to gaze at him, it nearly killed him. He looked like a small child on the verge of tears, begging to be let go…

"Dean…" Sam started, taking a step forward, "Just think about this for a second. You go out there and the demon won't hesitate to shoot you on the spot. Think about it – what could he do to a hellhound with no body?"

It made his chest ache to see how lost Dean looked in that second. Truth was, Sam had no idea what sort of things a demon could do to another demonic being when it wasn't in a meat suit, for all he knew it could be even more painful than with a body but either way, Sam wasn't about to risk his brother's life. And he found himself breathing just that little bit easier as Bobby guided Dean back into the room and away from the doorway – the elder hunter moving to make sure he blocked the exit, just in case.

And it was in that moment that Harry chose to click on, understanding why all three of them had suddenly gone so rigid and tense. Sam really wished he hadn't. He could have done without the old drunk's yabberings and crazed shoutings as the old guy practically spat his words out, thrashing once more in his binds. "See what he's done! He's brought them here to kill us! Damn it Singer, you fool!"

Sam opened his mouth immediately in his brothers defence, but it seemed he didn't have to as Dean swung to face the man, his eyes ablaze with frustration as he snapped, angered that he wasn't allowed to go to his hellhound's aid. "One more word and I'll throw you out there myself, see how well you fend for yourself all by your lonesome. And I swear I won't regret it, even as you're screaming so loudly and begging to die 'cause you just can't stand the pain anymore."

The old guy stiffened, his throat visibly working as he seemed to literally swallow the harsh words that Dean had shot at him. Sam could practically see his skin paling as he fought against the urge to bite back, because there was a terror in the old man's eyes that told Sam he was too afraid that Dean would follow through on his threat. And as Dean stalked back and forth, jaw and fists clenched tightly, Sam wouldn't have put it past him to. It was in that moment that he found the whole Lucifer thing nearly believable, a tiny spark of fire in Dean's eyes that scared Sam more than he was willing to admit.

"Dean." Bobby voiced the eldest Winchester's name sharply, shooting him a warning look when Dean span to stare him down. And to Sam's relief, Dean nodded in understanding as he drew in a long breath, eyes closing briefly as the eldest tried to calm himself.

"So what do we do?" The words were forced and still tense but they were less fiery than before and Sam knew that Dean was trying so hard to remain in control. It was kind of unnerving considering the wild claims and Sam found himself watching his brother even more carefully than ever before, studying him as if he expected him to suddenly shatter into a thousand pieces, leaving Lucifer in his wake. It wasn't until Bobby spoke up that his gaze was finally torn away, moving to rest on the older hunter instead.

"There's a demon outside with God only knows how many henchmen, what d'ya think we do?" It was a rhetorical question said in such a way that it made Sam realise that Bobby really didn't care whether or not Lucifer was hitching a rise with his brother and that he would still talk to him with the same attitude either way. The elder hunter moved towards Harry as he spoke, kneeling down when he got there to start undoing the knots in the ropes. "We get ourselves ready for when they decide to come in, and unfortunately we're gonna need all the help we can get for that."

He tugged at the rope sharply as he said the last part, making sure that the old drunk knew Bobby was talking to him, but also, at the same time, it was a warning for him not to try anything – 'else he'd be right back in that chair. And begrudgingly, Harry seemed to heed the warning, the retired hunter moving out of the chair as soon as he could to just stand, spinning on the spot and glaring at Bobby. But other than that, he didn't do anything. He didn't even speak, just let his eyes say all that he wanted to. Though Sam guessed that was partly due to Dean's words as well.

"Well?" Bobby growled out as he looked at each one of them in turn, his next words going unspoken as his body language made it perfectly clear what intent lay behind them. _'You waiting for me to blow a whistle or something? Get to work.'_ Or at least that's how Sam imagined it in his head. "You boys know where the salt is…" He added as he pair straightened up and shifted, ready to move, "And me and Harry are gonna take a trip down to the basement for some supplies."

"Dee-aan. Saa-aam."

Their names echoed in through the glass of the window as they moved towards the back room, leaving Bobby to carry on with whatever he was planning. They swallowed simultaneously, the demon's call leaving a bitter aftertaste and Sam looked towards Dean, feeling a guilty flutter in his heart when his brother refused to look him in the eye for longer than a half-second. It was as if he was afraid Sam would see something else in those emotional hazel orbs, or more correctly – someone else. And if Sam was honest, he was scared of that too.

"You're not gonna make me come in and get you, are you?"

The same cold voice reached their ears once again and though neither of them acknowledged it, Sam couldn't help but notice the faltered step of Dean's. Silently, he grabbed a bag of salt in each hand and watched as Dean did the same, the pair moving their separate ways as they set to securing all the windows and doors. But the demon refused to leave them be… he was determined, a dog with a bone so to speak – a particularly vicious dog with a weird Winchester shaped bone.

It was the next noise that really got to Sam though, the next voice… and he knew it would get to Dean too. A sharp pleading scream followed by terrified whimperings, just another person from the street but Sam knew that didn't matter, not to him and no to Dean. It was enough to prove to the boys that it wasn't only the hellhound in danger. He froze as the girl called out, her voice varying in pitch and volume as she begged for her life. The demon deliberately using her to get the boys right where it hurt, to get _Dean_ right where it hurt.

"Come on Deanie my boy! I just know how much you love to play the knight in shining armour. Don't you wanna rescue the damsel in distress?" The demon called out, silencing the girls as his words mocked the eldest Winchester and Sam cringed, imagining what would be going through his brother's mind. "I really don't wanna come in and get you Dean… but I will if I have to, right after I break pretty little Sarah's neck."

And right there, Sam knew the demon had got to Dean. Cursing, he dropped his bag of salt, mere seconds after he heard Dean drop his, and moved quickly in hopes of stopping his brother from going outside – 'cause there was no way Sam was about to let him play hero and get himself killed. Making it just in time, he grabbed Dean's arm before he could reach out and turn the handle.

"Dean, it's suicide." The words left his mouth on a breathless plea. He needed to get through to his brother, needed to make him understand that either way the girl was dead and that Sam would prefer that Dean didn't die along with her. "Just stop! For one moment, stop and think… for once. Please."

"Sammy," Dean's voice was so broken, so lost, his eyes glassy with the tears he was forcing back, a mild anger evident but drowned out by the pure guilt that sat upon the lines and contours of the eldest's face. "That girl is gonne die… he's gonna kill her. And for what? To get to me? I can't let someone else die for me…"

"But you're willing to sacrifice your life for someone else's? Is that it? Because she's gonna die anyway Dean," Sam retorted, waving his free hand towards the junkyard on the other side of the door, somewhere in the direction of where the demon's voice and girl's cries had come from, "As soon as that bullet goes through your chest, he'll kill her… or possess her. If she isn't already possessed that is."

"Sa-am…" The name was drawn out into a plea, both brothers trying so hard to get the other to see things their way. Damn Winchester stubbornness. A battle of wills… only Sam knew that he wasn't allowed to lose.

"No Dean. No. I can't let you do it."

Too focused on his brother, Sam didn't hear as Bobby emerged from the basement – didn't even realise he was standing right behind him until the elder hunter spoke up, a questioning tone in his voice. "Sam? Dean?"

And as Sam turned to look at Bobby, his grip on Dean's arm slackened and he really wished it hadn't. He really wished he hadn't allowed himself to get distracted as he felt Dean slip free of his hold and heard the front door opening. He span back around as soon as his mind caught on, feeling the dread and fear already overwhelming him as he spied the demon, and his yellow piercing eyes, leaning against the porch column. Dean had frozen in the doorway, his body tensing as his hands formed fists at his side.

"Hello Dean." The demon drawled out, voice like a thick coated venom as he raised the colt level with Dean's chest, a smile twisting onto his features.

And it happened so fast that Sam couldn't even react, no hellhound smoke to help out that time either. The noise of the gun vibrated through Sam's skull as he pushed himself forward, wrapping his arms around Dean as they both went crashing down to the ground. The blood seeped out slowly at first before steadily growing to stain Dean's shirt and that was when his brother fell far too still for Sam's liking… far too still and far too quiet.

Yellow eyes met with Sam's for a mere moment as the demon let the colt fall to the flooring of the porch with a clatter, damage done… mission succeeded. Then they travelled lower, down towards Dean and a grin of sick satisfaction split his face in two. "Goodbye Dean."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Thank you so much for reading!!!


	11. Don't tell me if I'm dying

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Yes, that was an extrememly cruel cliffhanger but here's the update to that which should provide you with the answer as to whether he lives or dies and at the same time, leave a nagging doubt as I spring another cliffie... okay, yes, I'm addicted to using cliffies. I'm sorry, I am but I've got my notes so I can start working on the next chapter pretty quickly. Big thank you again to everyone who's reading and for the great support so far, you guys rule! You really do.

Oh and before I forget - I know this is set in season 2 but it has a mini spoiler for one of the early season 4 episodes, nothing huge but you'll know it when you see it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Don't tell me if I'm dying…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_If he had to describe it, he'd have said that dying felt a lot like falling. And he'd done enough falling in his life to know what that felt like. Looking back, all those other times that he'd come close to becoming the newest resident of the underworld, they had felt like falling too, drifting off into a cold darkness. Too sudden a drop to be flying, no… instead it was like his consciousness just let go, freefalling into a dreamless peace._

_But like with any fall, the falling part wasn't that bad – the landing however, that was a bitch. And the pain it caused, radiating throughout his body, could mean only one of two things. Either he was in Hell, or back in Lucifer's dream world. And at that moment he didn't know which was worse. But when the darkness ebbed away with the arrival of a voice, he figured out just which of the two it was._

_A soft drawl, deep and strong, a voice he knew too well. "Hello Dean."_

_And just how the hell had he got out?_

_"Lucifer…" The name left his lips on a growling breath and he pushed himself up, groaning out loud from the effort. But his eyes locked on the man before him as he glared at the mirror image of himself, his dark half… an inner demon with a real kick._

_"Don't pull that face Dean. I thought you'd be happy to see me. After all, I _am_ the reason your heart's still beating."_

_The words dug into him, making his chest ache at the implication and his gaze idly drifted beyond Lucifer, instead landing on the 'prison' behind him. The iron fence that surrounded the tree had been twisted and distorted, as if it had been torn open by some metallic beast with Wolverine strength claws. The tree itself was split in two, ashened down the centre as if lightening had struck it right at the heart. How the hell had Lucifer managed to escape? And maybe more importantly, why weren't the pair of them dead?_

_"Why didn't it kill you?" Dean pushed the question out through clenched teeth, knowing that he was more scared than angry but on some level, he felt a guilty relief that Lucifer had somehow kept him alive._

_"Keep up Dean, keep up." Lucifer mocked him, taking on the tone of an annoying know it all teacher who enjoyed being the smuggest guy in the room, "The colt can't kill _me_. It's designed to kill evil and I'm still far too much of an angel to fall into that category. No matter how hard they try, they can't strip me of that."_

_"And what about me?"_

_"What about you Dean? Technically speaking, _you_ don't even exist. You are nothing but my shadow." He made sure to annunciate each word clearly so that they rang in Dean's ears, each one causing his throat to tighten just that little bit more. "So seeing as you are me Dean, no… it won't work on you either."_

_"If that's true, then why do I still feel like I'm dying?" Because he did, the longer that he stood there, facing off against Lucifer, the more and more he felt like he was slipping away. It wasn't so much the pain he could feel, but more the emptiness that was slowly creeping in._

_"That's because you are. You got yourself shot in the chest you moron! And that pathetic body _is _only human. What d'ya expect?"_

_"No." Dean stated in defiance, shaking his head to add emphasis. But it wasn't the words that he was denying but instead the offer that lay just behind Lucifer's eyes. The way the guy looked him up and down, like he was studying him, judging him and Dean knew exactly what he was implying, he knew what would be coming next and he wasn't going to give Lucifer the satisfaction._

_"You haven't even heard what I'm about to say and you're already dismissing it?"_

_"I'm no one's bitch." Dean spat the words out, half his lip raising as he all but growled at Lucifer who had now fallen completely still, like a predator waiting for its prey to make the first move._

_"Think about the consequences of what you're saying. I'm the reason you're still alive, so do you really want to say no to me? Do you really want to take that risk? Think about Sammy, Dean - poor lil' brother… clutching at your body, praying to God that you won't die – but you know God can't help you. I'm the only one that can."_

_"Believe me when I say I'd rather die. I won't let you out."_

_"I'm a nice guy really Dean, that's why I'm giving you a chance to say yes. But you seem to be forgetting one thing…"_

_"Oh yeah? And what's that?" He snarled at the fallen angel before him, hazel eyes locking with fiery lava and refusing to look away, refusing to back down._

_And Lucifer smirked, the glint in his eye growing. "I don't need to ask for you permission. I was just being courteous."_

_Swallowing hard, the words turned Dean's blood cold and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. That did not sound good at all. And it didn't look good, how Lucifer was staring him down, smirk turning easily into a grin as he took a step forward and towards Dean._

_"Don't fight me Dean. You know you can't win so it's just a waste of energy to even try." His voice grew soft, as if he were almost pitying Dean and it bugged the eldest __Winchester__ no end._

_No, he wasn't going to let Lucifer get what he wanted. He wasn't going to let him free… but then, with the walls that once enclosed him shattered, how could he even think to stop the fallen angel?_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

With his heart hammering loudly in his ears, Sam barely heard the Latin that slipped past Bobby's lips as the elder hunter took a step towards the doorway, towards the demon. No, at that point in time he was a little preoccupied with his brother and the blood that stained his shirt. Too still, too quiet... Why wasn't he moving? Why was he refusing to wake up? The colt didn't work on humans, didn't work on the good guys... _No, but bullets do, _the words circled in his thoughts idly, painfully reminding him that Dean wasn't invincible and that he bled and hurt and died, just like everybody else. But he couldn't die, not now, not like this.

And the words still spilled from Bobby, the Latin causing the demon to scowl, and Sam looked up in time to see the possessed man cry out as the thick black smoke left his body. It wasn't because of Bobby, Sam knew that much. Instead it was just backing off, retreating for the moment now its task was done. Though for how long was impossible to guess. But it meant they had been given time to try and do something, to somehow get Dean back into the land of the living…

"Basement, now." Bobby ordered as he clutched the door, ready to slam it closed as soon as Sam and Dean were clear of it.

"Bobby…" Sam uttered the word on a breath, a plea that Bobby knew the meaning to. No words other than that needing to be passed between the two of them as Bobby locked the door behind them and grabbed a hold of Dean's legs, helping the youngest to carry him down towards the basement.

With his back turned on where he was headed, Sam didn't make out the full extent of the room they had entered until the pair had placed Dean on the bed at the far end. And even then, Sam felt too disconnected to truly comprehend it. For all intents and purposes, it was the makings of a safety room – a demon free zone. At least that's what it appeared to be. The walls were metal - but if Sam knew Bobby, they weren't just any type of metal - and there were sigils spread across the place, mini safety nets.

But it was incomplete. And judging by the equipment surrounding them, it had been what Bobby was working on before the boys had dropped by. Well, incomplete or not, it was a hell of a lot better than nothing… And if it meant keeping the yellow eyed demon out long enough for them to somehow help Dean, he'd take it.

Taking a breath to steady himself, Sam knelt besides the bed, accepting the cloth that Bobby handed to him and placing it over the bloody entry wound. God, it killed him to see Dean like this. It killed him to know that because of one little distraction, because he'd let his grip on his brother waver… now he could lose him altogether. "Don't do this to me Dean. For God's sake Dean, ple-ase - I need you here with me."

He could hear Bobby shuffling about behind him, moving things in the room as if searching for something. Medical supplies, that had to be it. He was checking to see if he'd moved any down. But judging by the frustrated curse and loud metallic clank that accompanied it, there was nothing there. Glancing behind him for a moment, Sam watched as Bobby pushed passed a stock still, and extremely useless, Harry in order to get out of the room.

"We're not gonna lose him Sam." Bobby growled out as he caught Sam's and though Sam could hear the sheer determination in those words, he also heard the fear and denial in Bobby's tone.

And then he was gone, leaving Sam alone with Harry and Dean. Feeling his hackles rise, Sam spared Harry a glance and a quick warning which was almost nothing more than a low and threatening growl. "Don't. Don't you dare _say_ or _do_ anything."

Harry broke the eye contact first, looking away and down to the side, almost as if he was unsure of what to think. After all, he had claimed that Dean had brought the demon to them, and yet it was the eldest Winchester that had been the one to end up in danger. And part of Sam took a sort of grim satisfaction in knowing the guilt that Harry felt for his assumptions, but he still felt angry that it wouldn't be enough… Because Sam could see the way the old drunk still looked at his brother, like he was just another demon begging to be put down, and if his hands hadn't been firmly pressed on the wound in Dean's chest at that point in time, trying to stop his brother from loosing anymore blood, he would have used them instead to throttle the retired hunter…

Sam's attention was drawn back to his brother though, breath nearly leaving him completely as panic flooded his system instead. Dean's back arched up on the bed, entire body tense before easing again, falling back just as quickly and stilling once more. But before Sam could breathe easily again, before he could push the sudden movement out of his mind and right it off as a one off thing, the spasms started. And the panic and fear gripped Sam so tightly that it was too painful to think of the consequences.

Jumping to his feet, his hands moved to firmly press down on Dean's shoulders instead, trying in vain to hold his brother still… to stop him from hurting himself somehow. _No, no, no -_ like a mantra, the one word circled his mind over and over again, dread growing with each lap it took. And looking over his shoulder, his voice wavered only ever so slightly as he called for Bobby – ignoring the fear written across Harry's features as his gaze passed over him.

"God damn it Bobby!" He cried out when the elder hunter didn't answer, already feeling the tears stinging his eyes and threatening to pour. But he couldn't give up… not yet. Dean had to be okay. Dean had to live. It wasn't fair…

And then the eldest fell so deathly still that Sam felt his heart almost stop and he hesitated, not wanting to turn back to Dean for fear of what he would find… for fear of seeing no rise or fall of his chest, for fear of seeing the life ebbing away from him… But Dean couldn't die. He wasn't allowed to die, not now, not like this. And Sam looked back, praying silently to someone, to anyone, that his brother wasn't dead. And somehow his prayer was answered…

Only Sam was pretty damn sure that it wasn't God who had answered it as he found himself staring into pools of chaotic crimson and black, a fiery lava that threatened to devour Sam and take him into the darkness that lay beyond the cold and empty pupils. And for the first time he found himself believing, without a doubt, that everything Dean had told him had been the truth. After all, he knew with a growing certainty that he was no longer staring at Dean but instead the demon that had been locked up inside of him… He was staring at Lucifer himself.

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I love you guys! Thanks for reading!


	12. Falling inside the black

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: This was supposed to be up a lot sooner... but the chapter was a right biatch to write. Lucy didn't feel like talking to me much after he read about my plans, but I got him to cooperate eventually. Thanks so much for all the encouragement!!

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Falling Inside the Black

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It felt exhilarating to be free, to be in control… to be himself again, or partly at least. And it was amazing being able to breathe, he could feel the oxygen lining his lungs, rich and fresh – something Dean took for granted far too much. Dean took an awful lot for granted when it came to living, but then he was only human after all and Lucifer couldn't expect much more from him… even if he was his shadow.

Pushing himself into a seated position on the bed now that Sam's forceful push had slackened, his fiery eyes meeting with a pair of shocked, possibly even horrified, hazel. He couldn't help the Deanly smirk that slid onto his features as he took in the expression, his head tilting to the side just a little in a questioning manner. "What's the matter Sammy? Don't you remember me and all the fun we had?"

Sam stumbled back a little as Lucifer pushed himself up, the fallen angel stretching out as he did so and making it known he was in full control as he rolled his shoulder and neck. Sammy didn't answer at first, and Lucifer couldn't help but be a little disappointed by the greeting, a cold stale silence, especially when it had felt like he'd been locked up for an eternity. But finally Sam found his voice, head shaking from side to side in minute motions as denial sparked brightly behind his eyes.

"Where's Dean?" The question was forced, low and almost threatening… but not quite – the fear behind the words making it sound a lot more timid then it was meant to.

Tapping his temple with his middle finger, the smile never slid from Lucifer's face as he answered, "Locked up, inside here – safe and out of the way." And he let his eyes wander around the room to land on Harry as the old drunk seemed to shrink back, pushing himself up against the wall in fear. "What's the matter, Seer? Cat got your tongue?"

But the drunk didn't answer. Typical, all bark but no bite. Goddamn humans, always talking big until they're put up against something that is truly terrifying. Well, it was a good thing for them that Lucifer had his eyes set on a bigger prize at that moment in time – a rat by the name of Azazel. Rolling his eyes at the old hunter, he headed toward the door, coming to a halt just as he reached it, his attention drawn back to the young Winchester as Sam spoke up.

"I can't let you go - I'm not gonna let you ride my brother like some demon's bitch." The words were strong, voice unwavering as if he meant them with all his heart. Only Lucifer knew, as he turned back to face the young Winchester, that there was nothing Sam could do… making the threat just as empty as the hole that now sat inside his heart.

He took a step forward, sizing Sam up, measuring him… It was more a method of intimidation in order to remind Sammy boy who was in charge and judging by the sudden stillness, it worked. "And what exactly do you think you can do to stop me Sam?"

Pausing for just a moment, he waited for an answer but when it failed to come, he turned away once more, returning his attention back to the matter at hand. Oh, he was so going to enjoy ripping Azazel to shreds. The filthy little demon deserved it after trying a stunt like this. As he reached the front door, he could hear Bobby approach from behind him, Dean's name passing the old hunter's lips in the form of a question. He could have answered, could have given him a cold stare, instead he chose to ignore him, unlocking the door before ripping it open and stepping out onto the porch – letting that be answer enough for the old guy.

His eyes fell to the floor where Azazel's host had been, the colt still lying, now empty and useless, next to the spot. Just as he thought, the son of a bitch was sticking around to see whether or not he'd done the job right, oh man was he in for a surprise. Growling in frustration, Lucifer looked up, his eyes searching the graveyard of cars for any sign of the demon.

"Azazel! You son of a bitch! Where the hell are you hiding you traitorous rat?!" The angered cry moved passed his lips to echo around the junkyard and for the slightest moment, he almost felt sorry for the elder hunter standing just behind – almost being the operative word. After all, what a way to find out that the guy you loved like a son was no longer in control of his own body? And the moment passed, a whine from just off beyond the faded blue escort drawing his attention and his eyes locked on the spot as a smile made its way onto his lips, the hellhound informing it's master of where the demon was hiding. "Gotcha."

When thinking about it, he supposed the best way to describe how he moved towards his target was probably the most ironic… being that indeed, in some sense of the wording, he was a man possessed. Yet, as he pushed forward with a renewed determination, it seemed the most fitting. And his mood only worsened when he reached the whimpering hellhound, not happy in the slightest by what he saw – thick essence circling inside a locked iron cage, cowering as it feared to touch the bars.

It took only one swift movement for him to pull the cage door open, and in that movement, Azazel was obviously about to try to take advantage of his preoccupied mind… If only the demon had known that Lucifer had been listening to his each and every move as he attempted to creep up beside him, then maybe he would have taken more care instead of coming across as some sort of failed kamikaze style ninja whose ninjaing powers had been revoked for bad behaviour.

He raised his arm in Azazel's direction, hand forming a fist before he turned his head to the side, a sadistic glint in his eyes as he stared at the struggling demon. Dropping to his knees, the demon struggled for air and Lucifer couldn't help but find delight in the fear that sparkled in those yellow eyes. "I'm gonna skin you alive Azazel."

Before he could even make good on his threat though, he felt a hand wrap around the wrist of his outstretched arm and his eyes dropped, following the lines of its owner's arm before finding himself staring deep into hardened hazel orbs. Great, the kid was proving to be just as much of a distraction now as he had been the time before… and to think Lucifer was almost thinking about going easy on him.

"I already told you… I can't let you do that to Dean. I won't let you make him kill an innocent person." The young Winchester was pissed and scared, but Lucifer could see in his eyes that there was no way he would be backing down without a fight.

"Believe me when I say it'd be nothing new." He pushed the side of his lip up into a smirk, eyebrow quirking as he dared Sam to object, to tell him that he was lying and that Dean only killed monsters. They both knew it wasn't true. Sure, Dean did what he did to protect his family but that didn't mean that it didn't weigh heavily on his conscience… what he was willing to do for them. Anyone could be a cold blooded killer - they just needed the right cause.

Then came the telltale scream from just beside him which drew his attention back to the demon. Black smoke filled the air for a mere moment before quickly shooting down towards the ground to make a quick exit, just like the slippery little worm that he was… damn demon, didn't he understand that Lucifer wasn't finished with him? Lucifer could feel himself growing steadily angrier, even more pissed now that the demon had escaped without so much as a bloody scratch… Hell, Lucifer hadn't even managed to get a bruise on the guy.

As he drew in a deep breath, trying to collect himself, he felt Sam withdraw his hand and heard him take a step backwards. Oh yeah, he could tell that Lucifer was pissed and he was also smart enough to realise that he was the reason for it and, being that he was also the closest target, he was going to be the one to pay. If he couldn't have Azazel, then Sam would just have to do for now until he found the demon.

"Not the wisest move Sammy," Lucifer ground out, glaring at Sam as he tried to pull on a game face, tried to hide just how scared he was at that very moment. "'Course you realise now that I have to find a new play toy seeing as you just let mine get away. Or was that your way of volunteering? You wanna fill his shoes Sam? Whilst your brother watches, trapped inside his own mind, as I rip out your guts and choke you with them?"

"Dean, please. You can fight him. You're stronger than him…" And wasn't that just sweet? Little Sammy trying to get through to his big brother, his protector… guardian. Shame he didn't realise just how hopeless it was.

"Not gonna happen. Or are you having trouble keeping up Sam? I'm Lucifer… Dean can't fight that." Taking a menacing step forward as he spoke, he was brought to a halt as the hellhound moved to stand in front of Sam, red eyes locking on Lucifer's.

And it snarled at him. His own freaking hellhound snarled at him! Freaking growling as he stood there protecting Sam… a human that meant nothing to him! What the hell was going on here? Was everyone determined to spoil his fun? He felt a twang in his chest, the feeling of betrayal making his hands forms fists at his sides… or was that something else? Something deeper…

Pain shot through his body and he could feel himself dropping, knees colliding hard with the ground. What the hell? Confusion written across his features, he stared up at Sam, almost sure he heard him calling out towards Bobby… but then he couldn't quite make out above the ringing noise in his ears. This wasn't good, this definitely wasn't good… His chest ached, the bullet wound feeling as if someone had just jabbed it with a red hot poker and his head feeling as if someone was bashing it repeatedly with a frying pan.

Then for one moment, his vision flashed a bright white… before he fell deep into blackness.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Foot planted against the tree as he leaned there, Dean held the bullet he had found embedded in the trunk between his thumb and forefinger inches away from his eye as he studied it with care. He knew what it was. A damn bullet from the colt. Perfect… so this was the reason Lucy got out. And if he was right it would be _his_ way back out too…_

_Lightning brightened the sky for a moment, thunder roaring in response and Dean's gaze fell instead on the fallen angel before him. He looked broken, weak even… And Dean knew it was because of the bullet that he now grasped tightly in his hand. He had to admit, it amused him slightly that their roles had been reversed, him now being the one in charge in this little dreamworld of Lucifer's, and he couldn't help the smug grin that fell onto his face._

_"We have got to stop meeting like this," He mocked as he moved forward, taking note of how Lucifer's hands dug into the sand as if fighting back a deep pain. Dropping to his haunches, he locked eyes with the fallen angel and raised the bullet, smile growing as Lucifer eyed it with distaste. "Guess you're not as angelic as you originally thought, ey Lucy?"_

_He didn't wait for Lucifer to respond, didn't even wait for the snarl to fully form before grabbing a fistful of his shirt and bringing him closer, the anger on his own face reflecting the rage on Lucifer's. "Now give me back my Goddamn body."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Thanks for reading!


	13. Give me reason

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Not up as soon as I wanted it to be or as long as I wanted it to be - but I'll make no excuses. Instead I'll just say thank you so much for reading and for the encouragement ^_^ This remains one of my favourite fics to write so it means a lot to me.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Give me reason…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Time seemed to blur for a moment as Sam saw his brother, no, not his brother, Lucifer – he corrected himself – fall to his knees, fiery eyes confused as what looked like a spark of electricity seemed to jolt through his body like he had been shocked. And right then, Sam didn't care who was controlling the body because no matter who it was, it was still Dean's body and Sam couldn't just let it die… he couldn't let his brother die. Lucifer's eyes were already closed by the time Sam dropped down to catch him and stop him from falling even further, closed and refusing to reopen.

"Bobby!" The name left his chest aching as he called out from the top of his lungs, screaming the name so loudly that it tore deep into his throat, leaving it sore. "Bobby! Help me!"

The elder hunter was there in an instant, hand on Sam's shoulder and he forced Sam to move back a little so he could survey the damage. "We need to get that bullet out." His voice was gruff, coloured with worry, and he moved immediately, grabbing the upper half of Dean whilst he motioned for Sam to grab his legs.

Doing as he was told, they stumbled back towards the house, not even bothering with the basement and instead laying Dean on the couch. It was the closest thing to hand and even if it meant saving just a few minutes, the pair knew that those few minutes could make a difference. And besides, as Sam spared a quick glance to doorway as the hellhound sat guard, he figured that the demon had really done a runner this time, long gone in order to get away from Lucifer.

His attention was brought back to Dean when he heard Bobby shuffling away, off to fetch the supplies that he had been gathering before being interrupted by the arrival of Lucifer. Without really thinking about what he was doing, Sam's fingers reached towards Dean's eyelids tentatively… Since dropping to his knees, Lucifer seemed to have taken a trip into the land of the unconscious but Sam needed to know – needed to see his brother's eyes and not Lucifer's when he opened the eyelids.

Hazel. A very dull hazel. Not at all the usual amount of life in them as there should have been. But he could breathe a little easier knowing that they weren't tinged with the lava or fire that he had seen with Lucifer. He closed his own eyes and took a deep breath, a flicker of a memory playing in his mind of eyes just like those, but when he reached out to grab it, it was gone and he was awakened once again as Bobby landed next to him and shoved a pair of scissors into his hand.

He cut at Dean's shirt in silence, barely taking notice as Bobby prepared the 'tools'. In the back of his mind he could hear Dean's voice as he complained about Sam ruining his shirt, claiming it was his favourite when in truth he had another two just like it – besides, the bullet hole and blood had already done a good enough job of making it unwearable. His hands were steady, up until the point that they came into contact with the blood… that was when it took him all he had in order to be able to finish up the job so that Bobby could get to work.

He couldn't watch though. He had to turn his head away as Bobby set away… unable to watch the tension in the elder hunter or the way the metal dug into flesh in an attempt to find the bullet. He knew it wouldn't take long, but it felt like hours had passed before Bobby was done and the wound was closed up, bullet sitting in a small dish beside the couch. And finally Sam let himself falter, let his body slump as he rested his forehead against Dean's shoulder and wished that he would just wake up now… wake up and be Dean again.

He could feel Bobby hesitating beside him, could feel his hand hovering just above his shoulder blade but instead of placing it down, he withdrew, mumbling something about checking on Harry. It wasn't that he didn't want to comfort Sam, Sam figured it was more that he didn't want to be in the way… that he felt maybe Sam and Dean, even if he was unconscious, needed to be alone for a moment.

Only they weren't completely alone. The hellhound had moved away from the doorway now, its smoky presence lingering at the other end of the couch near Dean's legs. Red eyes glanced at the bullet from the colt momentarily and Sam swore he heard a low growl rumbling in distaste at the thing that had caused so much harm.

Sam watched him idly for a moment or two, if only to give his eyes something to do absently as he tried to force his mind to remain blank, too tired to think. Dean was Lucifer. His brother… it was official. And it made him feel empty… made his heart twist as he wondered if maybe, if he had just believed Dean straight of the bat… then maybe Dean wouldn't be lying on the couch, bullet wound in his chest, stuck somewhere between living and dead.

Hanging his head again, he let go of a sigh as he whispered one more plea. "C'mon man… I know you're in there. Wake up. Just wake up and be you. You're scaring the hell out of me bro… please, just wake up."

"Dude, you are such a girl." The words were quiet, mumbled and raw… but they were Dean's. And Sam felt his body go rigid, fearing to look in case he was wrong but doing so because he just had to know… had to see those hazel eyes. He felt his lips forming a half smile as his breath nearly left him.

"Jerk."

Dean smiled lazily in reply, his mouth already working around the word 'bitch' but it was cut in half as he made to push Sam away so he could sit up – the wound in his chest coming to life and reminding him of just how goddamn painful it was to be shot. So instead, what came out was a mix between a 'bitch', a 'goddamn it' and an incomprehensible cry of pain.

Sam's hands immediately found Dean's shoulders as he pressed down, forcing Dean to just lie still and not make any sudden movement and at that point in time Dean figured it was probably a pretty good idea, being how son of a bitching painful it was to move.

"Just take it easy Dean." Sam ordered, removing his hands when Dean stilled and relaxed once more. He pushed himself up from the floor and dragged a chair towards the couch to use instead, moving the books that had been resting on it onto a nearby pile. "How you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot in the chest with a demon killing gun." His lips twisted as he let go of a dry chuckle before a grimace swept across his face, followed by a hiss of pain and he mentally noted that laughing was definitely so not good right now. "Damn it."

From the corner of his eyes, he could spot the hesitation in Sam's movements, the way he opened his mouth but closed it almost immediately and then finally, when he got up the nerve, the words tumbled from his lips in a hurry – as if he was afraid he would change his mind mid-sentence. "What happened to Lucifer?"

That caused Dean to swallow hard and he was half tempted to take a deep breath but stopped himself at the last second. "He's back in jail for the moment… the bullet, I think it weakened him but it didn't kill him."

Sam nodded in understanding, eyes falling down as he thought about it. "How did he…" The words trailed off and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, mind already ticking over - trying to figure out the best way to word his question. But when the words failed to come, he was thankful to see that Dean knew what he was about to ask – though not so thankful about the actual answer he received.

"That's the exact same thing I plan to ask Jerry whenever that damn angelic bastard decides to show his face…"

"You only needed to ask Dean." The voice came from the doorway, and Sam's head snapped up to watch as a blond haired man leaned against the frame, making himself comfortable. But Dean's next words calmed his quickening heart and slowed the adrenaline that was so readily pumping into his system, preparing his body to fight if needed… and considering there were no weapons at hand, he was glad he didn't have to.

"You sure pick your times you son of a bitch." Dean growled out, lifting his head momentarily to stare into the amber eyes that locked with his hazel pair, raising his eyebrow as he dared the angel to disagree with him. "Where were you half an hour ago Jeremiel? When Lucifer decided to break out and use me as a rag doll… _again._"

"Last time I checked, you didn't need a guardian." The retort was hard and glare even harder but instead of baiting, Dean just let his head fall back against the armrest, his eyes trailing the pattern on the ceiling instead.

"What happened back there? I thought you said he couldn't get out unless I let him." A quick change of the subject was always good to redirect the conversation away from trouble. He listened as Jeremiel sighed, hearing the weariness and sadness etched within it, any anger gone as if it had never been there.

"I'm no expert on souls Dean, but I'm petty damn sure yours has been split near enough right down the middle." He said it so matter-of-factly that at first the words didn't register with either brother, but as soon as they did, Dean jumped up and grabbed the back of the couch to stare open mouthed at the angel, regretting it almost immediately as his chest ached in reminder.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

When the angel didn't answer after a beat, Sam jumped in, pushing himself to his feet as he took a step toward the angel. "How is that even possible?"

"When that bullet ripped through your body, it tried to rip through your soul as well – only not completely. So basically, it means you and Lucifer are a hell of a lot more separate than you originally were."

"So are you trying to say he can get out at will?"

"Well, hopefully that was just a one off."

"_Hopefully?_" The word was nothing more than a growl in Dean's throat and it took all that he had to stop himself from launching at the angel right there and then. "Hopefully ain't good enough. How the hell am I supposed to stop Lucifer from getting out and going on another rampage like the last time?"

"The sooner you's two sort out your differences the better." The angel murmured the words under his breath as if he didn't mean to be heard, rolling his eyes as he did so. And Dean found his jaw clenching and anger growing at the gesture, wishing the angel would quit being so damn cryptic, acting like he knew some big secret that Dean had to figure out by himself.

"We're both fighting for control of the same meatsuit, somehow I don't think that's gonna happen anytime soon."

"Look Dean, you and Lucifer are one in the same, whether you like it or not… and I cannot begin to explain the danger this situation puts you in… Broken souls are fragile so unless you and _him_ can come to some sort of agreement… things aren't looking too good at the time being."

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Thank you all!


	14. Taking the world on

.-.-. Falling.-.-.-.

Summary:

With the memories of what happened merely two months ago still burning freshly in Dean's mind, he's trying his hardest to make sure his biggest secret remains just that, a secret - from the entire world. But when you're the Devil himself… how long can you keep yourself and your brother safe from a demon with other plans in mind? Sequel to Lucifer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

A/N: Took me forever to get this chapter written as it was being a bitch and a half so thank you for your patience and thank you again for all the encouragement. You guys really are awesome!!

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Taking the world on

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"Stay right where you are." The words came from behind Jeremiel, a slight tremor among the madness that lay within the voice. Without even having to look up and past the angel though, Sam knew that it was Harry who had spoken. He did however have to raise his head in order to see that he was aiming the colt at the angel's back.

The first thought that ran through his mind wasn't so much a thought, it was just one name, loud and clear – Bobby. If Harry was here, holding an albeit empty gun on an angel, where the hell was Bobby? His body stiffened at the idea of the elder hunter being injured, or possibly worse. And judging by the sudden twitch in Dean's shoulder, his brother had shared the same thought and was about a second away from launching himself at the crazed hunter – bullet wound or no bullet wound.

Spreading his hand out, Sam locked eyes with Dean for a fraction of a moment as he essentially told his brother to 'calm it'. They needed to play smart on this one. Sure the guy truly was crazier than they had originally thought, being that he thought the empty colt could possibly intimidate any of them. Nuts didn't even begin to cover the amount of insanity that must have been rattling around that guy's brain. But just because the colt wasn't loaded didn't mean that the guy didn't have another weapon at hand – and the fact that Bobby hadn't emerged with him only strengthened that idea.

Jeremiel, however, seemed to react quite calmly to having a gun pointed at him as he turned to face Harry and tilted his head to the side, his eyes holding a questioning gaze. He didn't stop there though, instead he moved further forward, advancing slowly until he was standing directly in front of the hunter – Harry's hand quivering, body stricken with fear and maybe… maybe something else.

"It's okay Harry," Jeremiel said softly, a small smile appearing on his face as he lifted his hand and placed it over the barrel of the colt, gently pushing down until it was no longer pointed at him. "You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you."

Sam saw Dean raise an eyebrow at that and he had to agree with his brother's sentiments. If Bobby was harmed in anyway, then Harry was a dead man – even with the angel's presence. Edging forward, Sam pushed out into the hallway, holding a hand behind him to tell Dean to stay where he was. He didn't turn to see his brother's expression at that but he figured it as akin to something a stubborn teenager would wear.

"Where's Bobby you son of a bitch?" Sam growled out, his hand already weaving around his back to the gun that was concealed there.

"Your friend is fine Sam," the angel answered, his eyes never leaving Harry as Harry's fearful eyes never left the angel. "I don't believe Harry here is capable of killing another human being, he is just confused… his soul lost among the sea of alcohol that muddles his mind."

At that, the hunter finally spoke again, his face pale and eyes wide. It wasn't until that moment that Sam remembered how Harry had reacted to Dean and how he had claimed to be able to _see_. If that was true, and that was really an angel standing there before them, then he could only imagine what the guy saw when he looked at Jeremiel. "W..what are you?"

"I think you already know the answer to that," Jeremiel answered, his voice gentle but gaze demanding. Even without some special gift, Sam could simply sense the power that was inside the angel and if he was honest, it was scary.

"Impossible. They don't exist." Pure denial laced Harry's voice but his posture seemed more relaxed than it had been, still rigid but definitely more relaxed. Jeremiel smiled at his words and shook his head but turned away, refusing to press the matter, knowing that the idea was now planted and it was up to Harry whether or not he chose to believe.

"Whatever you choose to believe Seer, I implore you to believe me when I say that the man in front of you, the one that you claim to be a demon… he is a good man and if you were to ever think of asking for forgiveness and making up for the mistakes you have made, you should start by helping him. Maybe you could learn a thing or two."

Seer. Lucifer had called Harry the exact same thing. And the more Sam thought about it, the more he watched the angel in front of him and compared him to what he'd seen of Lucifer – he had to admit, the pair had similar characteristics. As if Lucifer had never quite managed to let go of the fact he had once been an angel… Maybe that would work to their advantage, or maybe it would only serve to make the damn fallen angel even more proud.

With Harry seemingly unable to leave his position, his eyes still following the angel, Jeremiel returned to stand in front of Dean, a saddened smile creeping onto his face. "I'm sorry Dean. I really am. I wish I could be of more help but you must understand that I have other duties to attend to so I must leave you to attend to your own." There was a subtle emphasis placed on the last words, like a reminder that Sam didn't quite catch the meaning of but he was sure Dean understood by the way his eyes seemed to flick downward for a moment. "And don't dismiss Harry so quickly. He could be of use to you."

Before either of them could get out any words to disagree, the angel took his leave – through the front door for once – and left them in the now deadened silence. It didn't take long for sound to return though, as Bobby stumbled up the stairs and out of the door that led to the basement, rubbing the back of his head the whole way. Harry didn't even see the left hook coming as it sent him backwards and Bobby was just about to have another shot before Sam stepped in.

If he was honest, he would have quite happily let Bobby give the crazy guy a good going over but even though he felt dubious about the angel's words, he knew there was some truth behind them.

"Good to see you're still swinging," Sam smiled, his heart loosening a little in his chest at being able to see Bobby alive and well enough to throw a good punch.

Bobby's glare softened and Sam saw him visibly calming himself as his hand weaved around to once again rub the back of his head. "Next time I say I'm gonna check on the drunken fool, remind me just how bad an idea it is."

_666_

Within half an hour, the four had settled into an uncomfortable silence, staring absently at the room around them. Harry was once again tied to the chair, ropes even tighter than before – Bobby not giving him another chance to rebel and do something stupid. But considering how Harry had given him a bump the size of Texas on the back of his head, Dean couldn't really blame the guy. And he definitely couldn't blame the side glances and the growl etched beneath Bobby's breath that betrayed just how much he was restraining himself from lashing out at the crazed hunter.

Shifting a little on the couch, Dean groaned against the pain in his chest, cursing under his breath as it refused to numb even after the palm full of medication that Sam had fed him. Silently, he went over Jeremiel's words, his eyes falling distant as he did so. It made him feel empty to think that his soul had been split, made him feel like someone had stolen a part of who he was and whilst one part of him told him that he was better off without the fallen angel, another part knew that something had been wrong since he had woken up before… he just hadn't figured it out until now.

And in his position, with his soul so fragile, how was he supposed to protect Sam? How was he supposed to protect Sam from the yellow eyed demon without Lucifer's help? Or at least without the powers that Lucifer possessed.

Which brought him to his next contemplation. How the hell were they supposed to kill the damn demon that had destroyed their lives now that the last bullet of the colt had been used on him? Sure, Bobby was currently tinkering with it and had mentioned plans to take it apart to see what made it tick, but Dean didn't really see how he would be able to really accomplish anything – at least not without Samuel Colt's help. Seeing as he was dead and long since buried, Dean doubted that would happen anytime soon.

"That's not gonna work," Harry muttered in Bobby's direction, "I know what gun that is and I know that you need special bullets to make it work."

"I know one thing I can get it to work on," Bobby grumbled in reply, words leaving on an irritated breath. His eyes only left the colt for a second to send a deadly look Harry's way but the other hunter didn't even flinch.

Instead he sat up a little straighter, a smirk sliding onto his face as his eyes shone with mischief and Dean rolled his eyes at the act. It was like the guy was actually revelling in the fact that they could no longer kill the demon with the gun. It pissed him off if he was honest.

"Samuel Colt made a special gun once upon a time for a hunter friend of his, and he made thirteen bullets to go with that gun. I know my hunter stories – just never quite believed them until I saw the thing lying on the ground out there. But my father always insisted…" Harry shook his head, the smirk turning into an almost maniacal grin, reminding Dean exactly why the guy had to be tied up. A few screws loose and then some… nuts! "He used to tell me bedtime stories about that thing…"

"What's your point Harry? Or are you jus trying to talk us to death now?"

"My point is that it won't work without one of those bullets and judging by your faces… you don't have any. But I know where you can get one - all you have to do is let me go."

"So you can take a shot at my brother?" Sam jumped up from his seat and moved to stare the hunter down, his eyes alight with fury but at the same time, an element of hope. "There are no more bullets. They're long gone now. The last is sitting useless in that dish over there."

"Fine. No skin off my back. Just don't go dismantling the damn thing and making it unusable for a time when _I_ might need it."

"You're a piece of work, you know that Harry?" No longer tinkering with the gun, Bobby's attention was completely focused on Harry now, angry and frustrated. But Dean couldn't quite bring himself to get worked up about it. The guy was obviously lying, trying to save his own bacon and no amount of shouting at him would get him to stop. "A real sick piece of work."

Turning his head to the side, Dean studied the man and sighed. The guy's features were just as angry as Sam's and Bobby's, but his lips still twisted into a taunting smile as he played with them, just like he played with that damn trinket of his all the time, like it was some kind of symbol for his faith. A frown tugged at his brow, his eyes narrowing as he remembered seeing Harry with it the first time they'd met back at the Roadhouse.

"Where is it Harry?" he asked, letting the pain slip away momentarily as excitement pushed it back and he pulled himself up to stare at the man before it. "I saw you playing with it, like some lucky charm. Didn't realise what it was 'til now… Where'd you put it Harry?"

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Thanks for reading!!


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